Notice
by 4persephone
Summary: COWRITTEN WITH NEONDAISIES. An Alternate Universe take on In Absence. What would have happened if Pepper weren't able to actually leave?
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: So here's the deal: One upon a time, in a galaxy far far away, two writing partners started a story set in the city of Savannah GA, spawning an epic we now refer to as 'In Absence,' or in our own vernacular, IA. We wrote and are continuing to write it and for the most part, the readers smile down on us and say that it is good. Unfortuntely for both our tortured brains though, not very long ago, one of the two of us, who shall remain un-named was foolish enough to say the following statement

Author 1: "What do you think would have happened if Tony had been at the house that first night Pepper left that note there and had managed to catch her?"

Author 2: -pauses then thunks head repeatedly against the monitor screen-

That question is now answered in what's started just below. It is alternate universe now, and though some of the players may be familar, the roads they take will be completely up for grabs.

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The house is dark when Pepper gets there. For a long time she sits in her car, engine idling, as she debates the wisdom of what she's about to do. Out of all the ways that she's ever imagined saying goodbye to Tony, this had never been on her list.

In her mind she's never been so cowardly as to sneak into his house when he's not home to leave a handwritten note on a desk she'll never see again. But after seeing Delaney tonight she has to leave before she _shatters_.

It's just... God, she's screwed up her life so badly that she can't see any other paths.

So she forces herself to turn off her car, to shut off the lights and climb out of the driver's seat. Then she looks up at the front of the mansion and ruggedly exhales. The December air is bracing against her cheeks as she hurries to get inside the house. Her skin breaks out in goosebumps and the manila envelope her excuse for leaving is tucked inside of crinkles in her hand as she grips it a little too tightly. She'd left the Christmas party early, claiming a headache, and after the day it'd been Tony had barely even tried to convince her to stay.

If he had, she probably would have stayed a little longer because leaving wasn't what she wanted to do, and wasn't what she wanted to do to _him_.

If he'd tried to persuade her to stay, even just a little, she would have lost her nerve and she _would_ have stayed and she would have been one more day closer to him finding out about what she was keeping hidden. That he still doesn't know is the only merciful thing about this situation: by leaving he'll never have to know what a fraud she's been.

Besides, there are more basic reasons to leave then her own sense of shame. Not the least of which is a growing concern for the child in her belly. She's been feeling sick and dizzy for the last several weeks now, and though she knows that some parts of it can be blamed on changing hormones, she's beginning to suspect there's something deeper involved.

Her life as it is, is just to stressful for someone carrying a baby. Hell, her life may be too stressful for literally anyone at all.

'Twelve hour days, constantly missed appointments.' Apologies that she's starting to have trouble making sound genuine and a temper she's having trouble keeping a grip on. She's finding it hard to tow the line now, and knowing the lifestyle of her employer – short of him falling into a coma – none of those facts are going to change.

Hell, even if he did fall into a coma, that would just bring on a stress of another kind entirely. She _loves_ him - that's one thing this entire situation has brought home to her. She loves him, and though leaving is going to hurt, it'll hurt far less than staying and actually seeing him in pain.

She has to do this. It's the only option left.

When the door to the house opens silently, she almost wishes it could make an ominous clang.

Inside the house, Pepper tries to decide where to leave her resignation. She should have decided this already, but she's spent too much time delaying on the ride over here. For all she knows Tony may be home from the gala soon, and unless she'd been wrong about how much he was drinking, tonight he might even be bringing home company.

She should be on the road by now. There's no guessing how long Tony will stay at the annual Stark Industries Christmas party without her there. Lately it seems he's been doing a lot of mundane things just to stay on her good side. It's a sign that he's noticed the changes in her attitude and behavior, even if he hasn't said anything about it yet.

That means by the time he finds this note she has got to be out of his range of effect. _That_ means a rental car at the airport paid for in cash, and a good three hundred miles outside the city before sunrise can catch her.

Where she goes from there she'll figure out along the way.

The garage is the best place, she finally decides. He never sets foot inside her office unless he's looking for something, and some kind of note from her when she doesn't come into work tomorrow or answer her phone won't be cause enough to make him start poking around.

It's best to leave this on his desk in the garage, where he'll be sure to see it first thing.

'I don't want to leave this place,' she admits with a great deal of reluctance. And it's not just the man precisely - it's also the house, which has strangely become her home.

She knows the thought is a little bit bizarre but it's still true, because as awkward as it's been staying off Tony's radar lately this place has been a sanctuary. Her own apartment is far less welcoming these days, though she can't say why exactly.

Perhaps it just doesn't have such a sheer depth of uncomfortable memory.

"Jarvis, lights," she whispers, though there's certainly no one to hear her but the AI. He doesn't answer aloud, just brings the lights up so she doesn't kill herself going down the stairs to Tony's lair. His desk is cluttered. Pepper takes the time to run the dirty dishes under some water before depositing them in the sink. She gathers up the crumpled papers and puts them in the trash can. The pens scattered over the surface all go into the pencil holder.

Then, without any legitimate reasons to fuss, she props the envelope containing her 'family emergency' between his keyboard and the flat screen monitor. At the last minute she debates whether or not she's going to get another envelope so she can readdress it. Scrawling Tony's first name across this envelope is hardly going to lessen the blow, and might even make things worse.

There's a lack of formality, of distance in using only his first name. She doesn't want to invite him to hope, as cruel as that sounds. Theirs has always been a bewildering relationship...as hard to end as it had been in those first few months to begin...

Maybe he'll appreciate 'Tony' more, though, she admits to herself. Once he realizes she's not coming back he might see her calling him Mr. Stark as just another layer of what she now knows herself is mostly an attempt to distance herself from him.

And she doesn't want to hurt him in this any more than she wants to continue torturing

herself.

For a moment she doubts whether or not this is the right thing to do, whether or not she's underestimating Tony's ability to cope with the truth of her new situation - whether or not she's even _ready_ to leave. It's not too late to leave, and any video footage of her down here is hardly incriminating stuff. She can go home now and brazen out maybe another month. Another month which she'll have to find the right way to say goodbye instead of all the wrong ways.

Another month to hide the morning sickness that is only getting worse.

"I know you've been spending a lot of time here, Pep, but when you said you were tired and going home this wasn't exactly what I'd pictured." Pepper swallows hard and feels her stomach twist in a bad way as she immediately recognizes Tony's voice. She turns to find him standing at the foot of the stairway with an inquisitive look on his face.

"Paperwork for tomorrow," she says, though she's not sure how. Her mouth is dry and her throat is so tight it's hard speak. "Nothing too important, but I decided to drop it off in case I don't make it in tomorrow. I think I might be coming down with something."

'Too hard.' She's trying too hard to explain her presence away, to divert his attention from the envelope on his desk. She never calls in sick to work. Never unless he _makes_ her.

He frowns at the comment, crossing the room and entering right into her personal space. When he gets there he raises a hand to place it gently on her forehead. "Well, you do have a slight fever, I think...which might explain why you've been dragging around like a tired dog for the last couple of weeks."

'God have I been that obvious?' she chastises herself.

Tony taps her on the nose. "I can't save the world when I can't get my messages, Pepper. And since you're the queen of my schedule, I suggest you take the next two days off at minimum and get some serious sleep so you don't end up out sick for longer."

"Thank you." And despite every reason why she knows she shouldn't, Pepper leans in and presses a lingering kiss to Tony's cheek before she breaks away and hurries towards the stairs. "Merry Christmas, Tony. I'll see you sometime in the next couple of days."

'It's not a lie either,' she tells herself as she climbs the stairs. Because she will see him – even if he won't get the same in return. He's been part of her dream-scape for months now, she doesn't expect that to change anytime soon...

She makes it up to the living room and is about to open the front door when Jarvis speaks.

"Ms Potts, Mr Stark has requested you wait another minute or two."

"Something wrong?" she asks a little too casually.

"No, Ma'am. He merely has a Christmas present which he forgot to give you this morning."

"Please tell Mr. Stark I'm sorry, but I have to go. He can give it to me the next time he sees me." She reaches for the doorknob but when it doesn't twist under her hand she has to accept that Jarvis is ultimately on Tony's side when it comes to this sort of thing.

'He knows.' She's absolutely certain. 'There's no way he doesn't know.'

For a moment she tries to remember where Tony once showed her the manual release on the mansion doors are. There has been at least one power outage before this during which the skill had been necessary to do an assessment of the house's perimeter. She gets as far as flipping the access panel open, and tugging out on of the two lines she needs before a hand closes over hers.

"It's just a Christmas present, Pepper." Tony's voice is gently teasing as he unthinkly leaves her trapped between him and the front door. "And I know you think my taste is questionable but I have to admit that your panicked flight seems a bit extreme."

She can't meet his eyes because she can feel herself breaking, can feel the cracks running up the walls of her emotional defenses. If she actually looks at him she's going to _lose it_ completely. What form that'll take, she doesn't know. But it will be _bad,_ and it will probably end up with Tony becoming all tender and concerned and impossible to say no to.

"Please, Tony... I don't...you don't have to. In fact, you shouldn't have."

"Ms Potts, how often do I get the urge to be generous?" And then he's turning her to face him, hand reaching out to lift her chin. "Pepper, you're shaking. What's wrong?"

"Tony..." Her face crumples, just as she'd been afraid it would. Her hormones are out of control and nearly impossible to rein in once they're loose. "I'm _leaving_, Tony."

His arms fold around her and pull her in tight. "When you're so tired you're crying? I'm not thinking that's the greatest idea, Pepper."

His tone is so patently disbelieving that she knows he's not actually going to bother even telling her no. That he's not going to let her leave is already a foregone conclusion. "Jarvis, lock down the house and the garage. I really think it's best that Pepper stays in the guest room and gets some sleep before she drives."

"Affirmative, sir," the AI responds. And while Pepper continues shaking Tony manages to reach down to her dangling hand and extract her only set of car keys. He frowns and lays a hand on her forehead again. "Okay right now you look several _days_ past tired. I think you actually have a slight fever...'"

'Common to early pregnancy' something in Pepper's head supplies. She tries to pull away but all the space she manages to put between them doesn't amount to more than a few inches, and Tony's too distracted to notice. "No, you don't understand. I'm leaving, Tony. I'm not going home, I'm _leaving L.A._"

She's not about the spend the night here, to depend on his generosity. Not because it isn't exactly what she wants, but because it is. If she doesn't leave now, she's going to stay too long and rip them both apart in the process.

She can feel the man holding her stiffen. And then he steps back far enough to get a good look at her face. "I quit," she murmurs softly. "Just in case you need clarification why there will be no accepting any Christmas presents."

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't move. He barely blinks. He certainly doesn't let her go. Pepper can't read the thoughts that are racing behind his eyes and his total lack of response is starting to make her nervous. "Tony, I'm sorry -"

"No," he says in a voice that's like molten steel.

She thinks for a moment that he's denying the truth of her feelings. But then his hands tighten around her arms and he looks up at the ceiling. "Jarvis, protocol delta six eight, mark. Release only upon my authorization."

"Affirmative, Sir." The AI responds with a beep.

"What did you just do?" she whispers, leaning back into his grasp even more as if that will actually make some kind of difference in the grip that's actually making the pulse under his hands throb. She's afraid of the look that's on her employer's face now. And it's not even that he's angry. Instead he's simply as stubborn as she's probably ever seen him.

"You are obviously out of your _mind _right now." Tony's voice is quiet, though his lips are tightly pursed and he looks like he wants to say more than that. "However there's no point about talking about any of this before tomorrow morning, so for now I'm ignoring everything you say for the rest of the night in favor of putting you to bed."

Before she can fully comprehend it, Pepper is being pulled back from the door and pushed gently in the direction of the living room. She shivers at what she assumes are the unmeant connotations. 'He said 'putting you to bed' Potts, not taking you there...'

Because there is no way in hell that that Tony had meant what her head had translated his words into.

Nonetheless the atmosphere of the mansion darkens - taking on an aura that is small and just the tiniest bit repressive. "What does the protocol you just enabled do?" she demands. When she digs her heels in it actually slows him down a little, but not enough to really stop them. Instead the forward momentum tips her over and Tony catches her almost without pause.

"I've just locked down the house until ten hours from now. Nobody gets out without a key and a pass code. I don't trust you to drive and I specifically gave Happy the night off and I'm exhausted myself so I can't call you a ride home or give you one myself." He carries her almost effortlessly down the hall and into the mansion's second guest room. "It's 2 am, Pepper, and you're totally dead on your feet. We'll talk more about all this tomorrow morning once you've had some sleep."

He turns to exit, leaving her standing on shaky legs right in the middle of the room.

Pepper stands there in shock, both at his sudden disappearance and his mention of the time. She'd left the party a little after 11, had gotten here by 12:30 after stopping by her house for the few things she'd planned to take with her. And now she'd somehow sat in her car for an _hour_, debating what she was going to do without noticing!?

Maybe Tony's right, maybe she_ is_ losing her mind. She turns to the empty room and looks around, as if there'll be some sort of escape open to her. All she sees is a neater version of the room she's usually ushering other women out of. There's nothing of course.

Reluctantly, Pepper toes off her heels and creeps towards the bed. She's cold and tired, but she has no intention of falling asleep. What she needs to do is stay awake and try to think of some argument that will get Tony to let her go tomorrow morning. Still, it won't hurt to pretend, especially if Tony decides to check up on her while he's being so overbearingly protective. "Jarvis, lights." Pepper wraps herself in the blanket as the room goes dark. "Windows, please." The wall across from her slowly lightens, enough that she can see the setting moon and a few of the brighter stars that manage to stand out against the city's light pollution.

The scene is cold and lonely and suits her just fine.

She lies there faking for a good number of minutes, and when the door cracks open several minutes later, she deliberately regulates her breath. She's shocked nearly breathless when after a deep sigh from Tony she hears the cautious shuffling motions of someone walking across the carpet in bare feet.

Then the mattress dents just the tiniest bit as Tony, now dressed in sweats, sets something on the bedside table and slips into the bed so he's sitting up right beside her. And that sends her into unreasonable panic mode again – because it can't mean what she thinks it does. Because this is _Tony_.

"No." She scoots across the bed, trying to put some space in between them. After...after... She can't even think about it much right now. Can't think about the night she'd gotten pregnant. The circumstances leading to it are definitely not something she's going to repeat with the man she's trying to leave. Even if, historically speaking, it's the best way to achieve her results.

Though, it'd probably backfire on her, she acknowledges quietly.. She'd probably be the only woman in the history of the world to suffer through Tony Stark's awkwardness during the morning after.

Tony sighs heavily before he speaks, then picks up the book she had recognized several seconds before. "You have two choices here, Pepper. You can try and actually sleep or you can lay here and talk to me. But I'm not going to leave until you pick. This is not the point to try and get your argument ready for tommorow."

Like hell she's sleeping when he's less than two feet from her in the darkness. She doesn't trust either of them that much. She knows she talks in her sleep. Besides even if she manages it they might bump into each other. And if he touches her again she has nothing but fear about how she'll probably react. She'll either completely panic or she'll roll over and take the comfort that she knows will be offered. And if she does that, there'll be nowhere far enough away that she can run to escape him.

"Why are you doing this, Tony?" she finally asks. The words are halfway angry and halfway desperate. She hates herself for the panic that's in them because she knows he can hear it too, and it's only going to make this harder on them both in the long term.

Tony doesn't look up from his book, but his voice is soft and deliberate as he turns the page. "Because you once threatened to leave me before you'd help me endanger my life without good purpose. I'll keep you here Pepper, for the exact same damn reason, until you can sleep and then convince me that this quitting out of the blue is not exactly the same."

His words are so candid they're like a knife to the gut, and she curls up instinctively as if protecting her belly. "I'm not suicidal, Tony...not anywhere near it."

"Maybe not," is his quiet reply. "But you're not acting like yourself either, and to be frank, you're scaring the shit out of me."

She tries to get angry, rolling back onto her back to glare at him."I don't have to explain myself to you, Tony. You're my boss – not my boyfriend. What I do with my life is none of your business except where it intersects with your schedule."

"You're lying," he says calmly. "We've always been more than that Pepper, and you've probably understood that better than I have." Before she can blink he reaches over so that it feels like he's nearly on top of her, setting his hands on either side of her head.

His eyes stare down intently into hers, and she forces herself not to fall into the support he's trying to offer. No matter how much she wants it. "Get off me, Tony," she says weakly, though she makes no effort to shove him away. Her hands are suddenly icy, and some part of her knows that if she gives him one more reason to worry, she might never actually make it out of his room.

She can't do anything at all, though, about the way he's both meeting and holding her eyes.

He pulls back immediately at her words, but doesn't leave the bed. "The more that you overreact and avoid me, Pepper, the more you just confirm that I'm right that this is about more than just being tired." She starts to hyperventilate, though she's not really aware of it. The man beside her is though and his eyes narrow a little as he looks down at the space still between them.

That's when she realizes that when she wasn't paying attention her hand subconsciously fisted into the front of his shirt.

His eyes narrow as he studies that connection, cataloguing what it might mean. "You're not leaving until you talk to me, Pepper. Tonight. Tomorrow. I can reset the protocol and order takeout for the next twelve months if that's what it takes."

She shudders violently and drops the grip against her own will, turning away from him, and curling into herself. "Goodnight, Mr. Stark," she chokes out before she closes her eyes and wills herself to go to sleep. She can feel him watch her for several long breathless minutes, until the sandman finally calls and then he sighs and carefully shifts out of the bed.

She realizes a little hazily that she wants to call him back. She doesn't understand her own instincts right now. They can't seem to decide if he's a threat or a comfort.

"I'd say pleasant dreams, Pepper. But right now I doubt that you're capable. I'll be close by, just get some sleep." He covers her with a blanket.

'A year indeed' some part of her whispers a little hysterically. 'Well if it comes down to that Virginia, at least you won't have to actually _tell_ him anything...'

Another month or two and he'll be able to see the proof of her pregnancy.

"Jarvis, I want this place in lock-down for the next ten and a half hours. No one gets in or out without my okay, including Ms Potts, as much as it makes me uncomfortable to do it. I'm afraid she's pushed herself too hard for far too long now, and I just can't justify letting her drive herself anywhere when she's obviously both sick _and_ sleep deprived."

He wasn't really serious about keeping her locked in the house indefinitely – not if he's rational about it. But she's just so scared that it's setting off every protective instinct he has and he doesn't know why.

Besides it was the only thing he could think of to actually make her _go to sleep_.

"Done as ordered, Sir," the AI informers him calmly. "Her temperature is currently only 99.8 but her other vitals are disturbingly far from what they should be. I suggest rest and plenty of fluids until she's feeling more like herself."

Tony rubs at the migraine pounding above his left eye and tries to justify to himself why having a drink would be a good idea. But considering Pepper's behavior just now, one of them needs to be in complete control of themselves, and he's it for the moment. "What are her other vitals?" Tony enters his own bedroom across the hall and pokes around in the bathroom cabinet for the Excedrin that he knows in there somewhere. After that he pads down to the kitchen and pours two glasses of apple juice: one for her and one for him.

"Pepper's respirations are elevated and her heart rate is bordering on tachycardia. If she doesn't improve within the next hour or so, I suggest a trip to the E.R might just be in order"

The AI sounds concerned, more concerned in fact that Tony's ever seen him before.

"Do you have hypotheses about what's actually going on?" Tony looks at the glass of juice he's poured and sighs. Pepper's asleep. The last thing she needs is for him to wake her up just for something to drink. He can wait until morning before he starts pushing fluids at her.

"I have a good suspcion, Sir. But I'm not certain it's my place to tell you."

"Just one? There's no rare Amazonian disorders you want to throw into the mix just ease my mind?" That causes Tony to frown some more.

Because if there's just _one_ possibility then he is going to have take it seriously. And Tony's not sure he's ready to do that. He doesn't want to know what Jarvis is going to say if it's something he's not going to be able to fix, or pay to have fixed, or pay researchers to fix. "Affirmative Sir, by my estimation at least. Though as I've already stated I'm reluctant to invade her privacy."

"If this is serious enough to include a possible trip to the E.R. Jarvis, then I need the pertinent facts. Without them how am I going to make a well informed decision?"

"True enough Sir, very well. Better to ask forgiveness than permission as they say. To my knowledge there is only one possible reason in the medical textbooks as why Pepper could suddenly be showing _two_ distinct heartbeats."

"Two heartbeats, Jarvis?" He repeats the statement carefully, wanting to make sure he hadn't misunderstood.

"Affirmative, Sir. Unless the audio apparatus I'm using has some kind of echo. And I've recalibrated twice to rule out such a possibility." Jarvis pops up his personal image on the screen. "Now you undrstand my hesitation. And there is one other matter as well, that I'm fairly loathe to speak of."

"We're already fucked, Jarvis, just spit out." He squeezes his eyes and wonders what could be coming that's wose after what he's just learned.

A moment later he knows. "Over the last few weeks I've also noted several subtle changes in her movement patterns, Sir. I never asked her about it though because though it was unintentional, I noticed. I was afraid she'd still see it as an intrusion..."

Tony already knows where this is going, but he winces nonetheless as Jarvis finishes up. "I thought at the time she'd probably injured herself in some way she preferred not to mention. Now though, it's not unreasonable to speculate that she's had some serious deep bruising."

Tony has to concentrate on his breathing before he can start to hyperventilate. "How long ago did you get the first readings on the second heartbeat?" he asks as he braces himself against the kitchen counter and tries to focus on taking deep breaths.

"As I said Sir, I don't make a habit of looking without reason because it seems predatory. The only thing I have records of for anything other than today is the movement patterns I spoke of. Though if you wish me to I can search our video archive if you like and try and isolate a probable date."

"Do it." Tony sets aside the glass of juice, unable to bear tasting anything so sweet right now while his stomach is churning. Now he's the one who is feeling sick – just from the glut of information. Pepper's _pregnant_. That in itself should be enough to shock him because he knows she's not in any kind of long-term - or even short term for that matter - relationship. But to think that perhaps, possibly...

It makes sense. God, if she's been raped then her behavior now makes _so much_ sense. Though why she she's waited so long before running... It hadn't even been until this last week or so that he'd even noticed a change in her behavior.

'The mask started cracking and you finally got smart enough to notice, _genius_.' He considers the timetable with a fair amount of regret. She's seemed more tired, lately, and has been eating noticably less. He'd thought it'd just been the workload getting to her. It was one of the reasons he'd gone out and bought that Christmas present for her...

He'd though ten midday massages might relieve her stress a little, and he had even managed to make sure he was scheduled _out_ of the house for each and every one, just to make sure she couldn't accuse him of anything improper.

Of course, the main reason he'd done it was simple because he _loved_ her and her apparent exhaustion had given him an excuse to do something nice for her without strictly telling her that this was the case.

It had been intended as something he could offer her while getting used to the idea himself.

He'd thought he would have time to ease into it, to ease her into it. Considering the fiasco that had been the befit he knows he has some serious apologizing to do. This though… This is so far outside the realm of what he knows how to deal with that the reality is making him dizzy.

'And you pinned her to a door, Stark. And then you pinned her to a _bed._' Those two pieces together make him shiver almost convulsively. 'You are a total fuckwit.' In his mind he goes back to their initial meeting. The lack of eye contact, the subtle distancing that she's been doing for awhile now that has started making him crazy.

It's classic rape victim behavior. Why in hell hadn't he realized that?

'Because you didn't want to! Because who in hell would guess that this could happen to _Pepper_?' He straightens and slowly walks down the hall to the door of the guest room. He needs to see her with his own eyes and believe she's intact. Because he knows now that he's not going to be able to touch again without her expressed permission barring medical emergency.

He needs to see at least that she's at least physically she's still whole. 'God,' he wonders. 'Does she even _know_ about the baby?' It'd been at least six weeks – but some women still bled the first month...

He opens the door to the room as silently as he can. When he doesn't hear anything inside but the sound of steady breathing he relaxes a little bit and eases the door open wide enough for him to slip through. The woman on the bed is still curled up in the fetal position underneath her blanket, her face curled up in a terrible frown.

He reaches out and tucks the blanket further around her, strokes a lock of hair back off her forehead without thinking, then mentally chides himself. The response that he gets is immediate and heartening though. Her expression actually loosens a little and she begins to uncurl from her defensive position. "You're _safe_, Pep." He strokes her head again and to his amazement she exhales deeply and shifts from her side to her stomach without further distress. Apparently she actually finds his close presence comforting.

Tony carefully circles the bed until he can look down at her face in the sparse light. Even in her sleep she looks exhausted, though the fact that she _is_ finally asleep says quite a lot. He hopes it has something to do with the reason she's been spending so many hours at his house. It does him good to think this is her unconscious sanctuary.

He intends to tell her tomorrow she's welcome to stay here as long as she wants.

After a few minutes of watching her, Tony sighs in defeat and sits down on the floor by her side after retrieving a blanket for himself. "How is she?" he whispers to Jarvis, right before he closes his eyes.

"Her breathing has returned to normal, sir. Though her heart rate is still mildly elevated, I believe it was mostly exhaustion. She should be alright."

Jarvis says the words in a voice so softly Tony almost doesn't hear. "Wake me if that changes," he murmurs, and then he lays there and does his best to sleep. He can't bring himself to leave her again, and no matter what she thinks at present, she is _not _leaving him.

When Pepper wakes it's with an urgent need for the bathroom. Her stomach is sour after hours of unsettled sleep and the urge to vomit is strong and growing more insistent. Standing takes almost all of her energy though, and for one horrifying second she_ knows_ that she's not going to be able to make it to the toilet in time. Before she can suffer the indignity of puking all over the carpet though, a pair of strong arms is lifting her up and moving her into the adjoining bath with reassuring swiftness.

"It's okay, Pep. I'll have you to the bathroom in just a minute." She wants to thank Tony but by the time she's leaning over the porcelain bowl the chance has passed. What follows turns out to be less actual puking than a severe case of the dry heaves.

"That's it, Pepper. Just try to slow down and breathe." The hand bracing her forehead is cool and remarkably soothing. With his other hand, Tony is loosely holding back her hair. The post party clothing that she's still wearing is suddenly too much – too tight and restrictive. She claws at the tightly fastened front of her shirt, trying to undo at least a couple buttons. She should have gone with something looser for the party last night than this simple blouse and skirt, because even if she's not showing a baby bump yet she's still getting massively claustrophobic inside her own skin. "I feel like I'm choking," she whimpers as she rests her forehead against the rim of the toilet.

Helping hands return and pop the first two buttons near her collar, revealing darkly freckled skin. "I'm going to go get you a pair of my clean sweats, then. Or would you prefer that I just lend you a clean bathrobe?"

She doesn't think she can bear the comfort of either, but she can't stand what she's wearing another minute. The sweats at least don't seem so completely vulnerable. "Sweats," she murmurs. The room is finally starting to stop swimming.

She tells herself that borrowing his sweats is not that intimate; hell, she's even done it before in a pinch. Two years ago she'd gotten stuck in a spring thunderstorm with a flat tire in the middle of a bad thunderstorm. By the time she'd gotten it changed she'd opted to complete the trip to the mansion just because it was closer..

She'd meant to stay there for an hour or so. Just until the county lifted the thunderstorm warnings. She'd ended up staying a day and a night, though, thanks to a string of massive mudslides and high winds that had then hit the area and blocked off the roads.

Tony had been absolutely furious when she'd arrived and he realized she'd been out driving in the weather at all. She'd had to sit through a half an hour lecture on taking needless chances, which considering who she'd been working for at the time, she'd found pretty damn humorous.

"Pepper? Hey, Pepper…" Tony's voice breaks in on her thoughts and Pepper looks up to see him standing in the doorway to the bathroom, half turned away from her. That's when she realizes that she's undone all the buttons of her shirt while her mind wandered.

This, on top of the time she'd apparently lost in her car the night before, is enough to make Pepper wonder if all that's wrong with her is that she's losing her mind.

"I…thank you." Pepper shuffles forward to take the offered clothes, hugging them to her chest until he turns and pulls the door halfway shut behind him. He remains out in the hall as she begins to change.

"Is there anything I can get you?" His voice sounds concerned but also cautious.

'Like he's not sure I'm not losing my mind himself.' Pepper strips her shirt the rest of the way off then pulls wearily at her skirt. "Saltines please, if you have them. And some tea with honey. Decaf, and um, the green tea, not the black… Never mind. Jarvis can tell you which of the teas are mine."

He nods. "You haven't eaten for hours. Not exactly healthy for anyone when they're feeling sick." Then he pulls the door the rest of the way closed. "I'll be back in about five minutes. Go ahead and crawl back in bed." The words are muffled through the wood but he pauses again. "Pepper are you sure you don't want some chicken broth instead of tea? It's a little more substantial."

Her stomach lurches and she shakes her head. "This...flu...is making me really nauseous. Let's just start with what doesn't make my stomach rebel when I think about it to begin with." Tony's clothes hang off her frame and Pepper examines them critically in the mirror.

Then she remembers there's nothing to hide yet except her own self-loathing.

'You need to start using your head, Potts,' she lectures herself as she takes a minute to splash cold water over her face. 'Tony's not going to let you out until you can make a coherent argument for why he should. So suck it up for a few hours so you can get the hell out.'

The little pep talk doesn't help much. She still feels lethargic and sick to her stomach as she shuffles back to the bed and climbs under the covers.

Tony returns a few minutes later with a tray of food balance carefully in his hand. "Okay...uhm you said crackers, but I didn't see any, so I thought I'd try offering dry toast instead. You've got your pick of white, wheat, sourdough or pumpernickel."

His face is so earnest that it's kind of endearing. She gets the feeling he doesn't play nursemaid to people all that often. There's also the tea she requested as well as a glass of light colored juice, she realizes after a moment it's probably apple. She picks it up – at least it doesn't smell cloying. She take a cautious sip before offering a genuine smile of thanks.

"This is actually really good. What time is it?" she asks softly as she hands the cup to him and picks a piece of wheat toast from his tray.

He'd said ten hours, which mean she could technically start yelling if he didn't let her out of here by noon.

"About ten a.m.. You're been sleeping almost eight hours." He takes the glass and studies her carefully. "And you look halfway to better. The bags under your eyes are fading at least. My suggestion is that you crawl back under that blanket and crash until you wake naturally again, and you might actually start feeling human."

She laughs a little sadly. Her problems aren't going to be solved by a few more hours of sleep. "I wish it were that easy, Tony. But I've got a schedule to keep." That sounds reasonable actually. Even if it's patently untrue.

"It is. You put your head on the pillow and close your eyes. Anywhere you're going, short of a plane, is staying put Pepper. And if you _are_ worried about missing a flight, I'll call up personally and reschedule. Hell, I'll do one better than that. I'll take you there on the jet."

His voice is gentle, and just a little bit teasing, but there's worry deeper beneath the surface that leaves her squirming. She wonders how many times he's actually checked on her since last night. 'A lot judging by how casual he's trying and failing to be.'

She doesn't know what to say to him so she says...nothing. The silence between them is uncomfortable as she tries to ignore the crumbs falling onto the blankets and he watches her try to ignore them, but it's also very familiar. Her behavior in the last month has left them at this impasse where neither can talk to the other any more than she can leave him without regret.

"Do you think it'll stay down?" Tony inquires after a moment, taking the tray with the rejected bread off the bed and setting it aside. "Because if you're still nauseous, I'm guessing it's time to call a doctor. The last thing you want to do in your condition is get dehydrated."

Her eyes leap to his at his use of the term 'in your condition,' and they flit away when she sees nothing but concern. "I'll be fine," she murmurs, which isn't a complete untruth. The current bout of nausea _is _starting to fade. "I'm not really throwing up much." Just reaching the point where she's afraid to move, and worse, the dry heaves.

Sometimes she wishes she could throw up _more_, just so the nausea would pass a little faster.

"Maybe not, Pepper, but you're clearly not eating enough either. You've lost weight recently and you didn't have much to spare to begin with." His eyes trace her form again, this time without bothering to even attempt tact. "When did you last see a doctor, Ms Potts?" he asks with more than a little 'boss' like authority in his voice.

Her hands tense in the blankets and for a minute Tony doesn't think she's going to answer. The way her shoulders hunch as she looks away is a pretty big sign that whatever answer she's got, she doesn't think he's going to like.

"A month ago," she finally murmurs. "I saw my doctor a month ago. She suggested I take some vacation time or at least works half days awhile. She thought I might be getting burnt out. Unsurprisingly, I guess; I have some of the symptoms of mild exhaustion."

"And you didn't mention this?" 'Of course she didn't.' This is the woman who he'd once had to threaten to fire if she kept coming to work while recovering from pneumonia. "So...any special order besides lots of rest to help you recover?" He can provide those without any issue.

Hell, even if she chooses to leave the mansion in favor of her apartment he can still fill that order without any issue. A plan is forming in his head. One so simple and beautiful that it actually might work without her knowing. His eyes narrow. "She didn't order you on actual bed rest did she? Because then I'm going to have to strangle you."

Pepper rolls her eyes. "Nothing quite that overstated. She suggested I start taking naps. That I get more sun and a more balanced diet and stop working so many long hours. Which I guarantee won't be a problem where I'm going."

"Really? Lovely. Glad to hear it. In the meantime consider this room to be yours whenever you need it. Oh and for the record, Potts, after you eat something a little bit more impressive than toast and apple juice I'll hand back over your keys. I'm sorry about being such a Neanderthal last night. But I was really afraid you were going to fall asleep at the wheel if I'd let you go in the condition you were in. You were sprouting the beginnings of a fever from what I'm guessing was serious dehydration..."

He lifts the tray from the table then, to carry it back to the kitchen. He's nearly out the door when Pepper's soft voice stops him and makes him turn back to face her. "Tony...I'll stay one more day if it will make you feel that much better, but after that, I'm still planning to leave."

He tilts his head and regards her. "One more day, Potts?" Then he turns and tilts his head a little. "Fine, but you need to let me know how long this recuperative vacation of yours is going to last, and when I can expect to see you back. Because you owe me minimally twenty nine days notice, Potts. That's the require stipulated on the contract that _you_ created and signed."

He looks her up and down. "Actually if I remember correctly the number on the contract is technically 60 days if it's verbal notice. But I assume the paperwork can be typed up fairly quickly, and we should be able to find a replacement and get them at least minimally trained by that point. You're on doctor's order to rest and I understand that, so I'm thinking that even after you get back we'll keep it at only half days. That's the best I can offer though, without a better explanation. Legal's probably going to yell at me for the concessions I just made without something about your medical situation put down in writing."


	2. Chapter 2

He's…reasonable. Pepper feels her heart sink because he is being absolutely, completely, one hundred percent_ reasonable _about her leaving. And for some reason this is not what she had expected. It might even be completely heartbreaking. "I-I need time to think about it, Tony," she manages to say, though her voice is hoarse. "And I think you might have been right about going back to sleep." Right now she'll take anything; any reason to give herself time alone to _think_.

Not to mention she needs to try and process the fact that what she'd thought was impossible is apparently happening.

'Thirty more days.' Roughly four weeks. Four hours a day times five days in a workweek – only eighty more hours. Eighty more hours of working beside him and then telling him goodbye without him trying to stop her?

Because he sees her as his friend. Nothing more than that apparently. Somehow his _acceptance_ of that idea is not what she was expecting.

He actually sounds as if he can understand the fact that she wants to quit. He sounds like he can watch her walk away and yet remain intact.

She'd though he... No. She'd obviously misread him.

'A normal goodbye?' Is such a thing even possible? 'It's possible for him – judging by the look on his face.' Tony seems regretful at her resignation, but he doesn't seem desperate like last time, and he doesn't seem _angry_. Instead he's being calm and supportive. He's leaving things in her hands: trusting her motives and putting his faith in her 'good judgment.'

It's unbearable - it rips her right out of her moorings. She'd expected and needed him to throw a tantrum and he just isn't, and she doesn't understand why and that's just the last straw.

'Thirty days.' It's a way to walk away without having to actually run. She's never considered that she might be able to leave him without actually _losing_ him. Without giving up his respect.

She's not sure she wants that kind of mercy. It might even be more destructive than him choosing to hate her. At least she feels she deserves his hate. She KNOWS she doesn't deserve his regard.

Leave on good terms. Exchange phone calls maybe. Send him birthday presents from wherever she went while never mentioning the baby. She's still not sure she's keeping it after all. She's seriously thought about abortion or adoption.

'Go for a year Pepper, and see if he bitches about his new secretary.' In a year or two maybe she can even come back to L.A.

The real make or break of this idea wouldn't be _his_ tolerance, but hers. How is she supposed to keep lying to him for another month when the guilt of living a lie for this long has already taken its toll?

Can she possibly keep the cards she's holding clutched to her chest? And even if she does can she ever go back to where she was before?

She doesn't know. She simply doesn't _know._

"I hate that you feel like you have to leave, Pepper." Tony is still talking sympathetically. "But I can probably guess your motives better than you think. Exhaustion is serious business, and these last months have been hell for us both - everybody hits their limit. So take all day if you need to, to think about it carefully. I don't want you making a choice thinking you've got some kind of deadline."

"Right...wouldn't want to think that." Her stomach feels as if her toast might be threatening to make a return trip. "I...I'll talk to you later, Tony. After I sleep awhile I think..."

He leaves the room closing the door behind him, and she lays there with her eyes closed, forcing herself to breathe. There are just so many choices to make now. The world just keeps getting more and more complicated every second she's in it.

'This is your chance, Pepper. For a decent goodbye.' Assuming Tony's on the up and up and why shouldn't he be...? After all, how many times had he offered her at least a chance to explore what was between them?

She'd always told her no and he'd handled the response with dignity.

That's the only thought in her head as she grabs her purse from the bedside table - she can only assume Tony left it there - before she rolls out of bed and staggers into the bathroom. After the juice and toast come back up, she pulls a small vial of peppermint oil that her doctor had recommended to help with the morning sickness out of her purse. She dabs a little under her nose and sinks back against the wall, not willing to leave the bathroom until her stomach settles and she's sure she won't need to return.

Maybe she actually is sick, because she's dizzy and has one hell of a headache building in her temples. Maybe she does need to call back her doctor, because looking in the mirror she realizes Tony's right about one thing: she has been losing weight.

If something doesn't change soon she might not _remain_ pregnant all that much longer. The thought makes her pale because she's fairly certain that if she miscarries it's not something she'll be able to hide – she'll utterly fall apart in the aftermath.

And if Tony saw that he wouldn't let her go. He'd be gentle and tender and supportive and he, at first at least, wouldn't ask any questions. But eventually he would. Eventually he'd want to know why the father hasn't called, visited or sent over flowers.

And she can't explain this. She just _can't._ She tries to keep from crying because she knows for a fact that if she gives into tears, then she'll really start sobbing. She doesn't want Tony to hear that, so except for a few sniffles, she manages to shove everything back down, breathing deeply in and out through her mouth until she's in control again.

'He's even offered me vacation time.' Tony has given her more than once choice. He's also said she can use some of her personal time before she gives her notice; up to two weeks.

That would put her at three months when she leaves. Do you look pregnant when you're that far along?

'A week or two of just sleeping and eating sounds nice. Of not worrying about running into Delaney again and not having to run myself absolutely ragged trying to keep up at the office.'

The only problem with that idea is that it would require that she lay down some uncompromising guidelines to Tony about what she expects from him while she's away.

Because if she agrees to take leave he'll... Well, based on his previous behavior, he'll call to check in on her, or to say hi, or do something to remind her that he's waiting for like send her hideously expensive catered chicken soup and a big vase full of get well flowers.

And it will be to much. As a man who's content to be just her friend that will simply be too much.

She just doesn't know what to do. Not at all. She doesn't have the first clue of what she should do, or shouldn't do in this situation. She is just... Terrified? Her behavior right now _ought _to terrify her. That it has only just started to do so is enough to make her reach for her phone.

Tony is being incredibly gracious, but she can't allow herself to lean on him right now, because she loves him and she is completely irrational and she can't bring herself to explain enough to let him be a true authority.

She needs a non-involved person who can know all the facts and make reasonable decisions. She needs impartiality that tempered by love, and there's only one person she knows who can actually provide that until she's back in control.

She presses the speed dial on her phone and waits for the man on the other end to pick up. 'Answer the phone, answer the phone, answer the phone...' "Mick's morgue, you stab 'em we slab 'em." answers a familiar voice at the other end.

"Mick?" Funny, from the sound of her voice even Pepper wouldn't guess she was upset, just a little bit tired. Now she just has to keep it together.

"Ginny?" Mick's voice is surprised and delighted. "My God, it is so weird that you actually called me."

"I do once every two weeks." She sounds a little insulted "It's not like I'm that much of a stranger to you, little brother."

"That's not what I meant, sweetie. Guess who was just about to call _you_? Merry Christmas, Sis. I'm taxi-ing on the runway at LAX international even as we speak."

"You are?" Her voice trembles a little. "You're _here_?" Her brother is present _in this city _less than an hour away?

She raises a hand to her mouth. There might just be a god after all. Or at least a light at the end of the tunnel that doesn't involve an oncoming train.

"Yeah, and this trip is technically intended to be your late Christmas present. Well, along with the package that's in my bag. I sorry that I didn't give you any warning but I didn't know if I'd manage to get a seat and I didn't want to disappoint you if it fell through..."

'Mick is _here_.' The words all but refuse to process. "Oh God. _Mick_, " is all she manages to say. And then like the basket case that she now knows she is, she manages to lose it _completely_.

"Mick." She drops her phone as she tries to muffle the sound of her sobs with her hands. It bounces a few times, making the kind of noises that would normally make her wince but now that just make her cry harder because this is pretty much the end of her rope and she can still hear Mick's voice faintly and he sounds upset now – he's insistently calling her name.

But she can't move. She can't do anything but cry. Because she just _hurts_ and the world feels like it is tearing apart. But her brother is here.

This is a good thing damn it, but she can't even pick up the phone.

"Pepper...Pepper, you have to _breathe_." Tony's voice is a rough sigh as he's suddenly beside her, sitting down on the tile. He pulls her into his arms and she's not sure where he's actually come from. She also doesn't _care_. She grabs onto him and bawls because if she doesn't hold onto _someone_ she doesn't know what's going to happen. It's entirely possible that she'll just fly apart

Instead she wraps her fists into the fabric of his shirt and buries her face in his neck.

He smells like musk and maybe something woodsy. She's not sure if it's cologne or just what Tony smells like naturally barring anything else. It's clean and comforting though, and she _hates_ that she's just discovered she loves being this close to him when she's already insured she'll never truly have him.

Tony pulls Pepper into his lap and holds onto her tightly as he reaches for the phone on the floor. She's showing no signs of calming down, and in the meantime there's an upset voice coming out of her phone that he's _very_ interested in talking to right now. "Who the hell is this and what did you just say to Pepper?" he demands when he brings the phone to his ear.

For a second Pepper's gasps are the only answering sound.

"I said Merry Fucking Christmas, asswipe. And who the hell are you?" A male voice snaps back through the receiver, agitated and angry.

"Tony Stark. I'm her boss. Also her friend. And who are you_?_"

Pepper coughs through her tears. "Michael, Tony. He's my_ brother._ Not his fault I'm crying."

'Well Shit.' Tony uses his free arm to pull her closer, and then he speaks into the receiver, sounding much more reasonable. "Sorry, I didn't mean to attack you. It's just – she's crying _again_."

And nothing in the world is worse for Anthony Stark then watching Pepper Potts cry.

"Understood. Where is she now?" Mick asks before he makes a frustrated sound. "Where are _you_?" he corrects himself.

"We're at my house in Malibu beach. She's suffering from exhaustion and I was scared to let her drive last night, so I made her sleep in my guest bedroom."

"How do I get there from LAX?" is the next question Mick asks, and he can hear someone calling out arrival and departure information in the background.

"You're at the_ airport?_" Tony blinks in disbelief. Her brother is visiting and Pepper is still getting ready to leave?

Which every moment this day is getting more and more frustrating.

"I flew in to surprise her. I've been out of town on a mission for the past nine months." Well that cleared part of the mystery up at least.

"Where are you at LAX?" Tony asks, deciding all of his other questions can wait for the moment. Reinforcements may have just arrived an it's a major _relief_.

"The baggage claim," Mick informs him, "But just as soon as I get my duffel, I'll be headed over to car rentals."

"Forget that. I'll come meet you -" When Pepper's arms tighten painfully around him Tony corrects, "_We'll_ come meet you at the Starbucks in the main arrival area. It'll be quicker and less confusing than me explaining."

"Is Pepper in any state to be traveling right now?" Mick asks after a moment.

Tony snorts. "I'd be more worried at this point about trying to tell her she can't come along. She won't be driving."

Pepper's nodding, very emphatically, and though she's still sobbing, it's less intense than it was just a moment before.

Her brother is silent for several seconds, then speaks again. "All right, then we have a plan. But let me talk to her again a minute..."

"Pepper, your brother wants to talk to you." When she obediently turns her head, he brushes the hair away from her ear and places her phone against her ear.

"Mick?" Her voice is still ragged enough to make her wince.

"Look I'm going to see you in about an hour, Ginny. Less than that if this guy knows how to drive. Are you going to be okay for that much longer?"

"Yes. Tony's here." It will take all her effort, though. "I'm sorry Mick, to be such a mess."

"Don't make me strangle you, Ginny. You're obviously sick. I'll make some soup when I get there and we'll have you back to normal in no time."

If only it were that easy. Though with her brother in town it might actually be. Michael had a way about him that just soothed even the roughest of edges. "Do...do you need us to bring you anything when we get there? Have you eaten dinner yet?" Airplane food was usually hideous.

Knowing her brother he hadn't eaten since he'd gotten on board hours ago.

"I'll get something to munch here while I'm waiting for you. Just tell me between the two of you there's at least one car with a decent sized back seat that I'll fit in."

"My car is here," she almost laughs, trying to imagine what Mick's reaction is going to be when he sees her brand new Audi. "And if you like you can even ride shot gun and I'll happily take the backseat."

"Actually Pepper, I thought we'd take the limo." Tony's voice interrupts as he continues rubbing her back in soothing circles. "There's room in the back for six people comfortably, and you can lay down on the seat on the way there or back if you need a nap."

She lets her head rest against his chest. "Who would drive us? I thought you gave Happy the day off today."

She's clearly confused and still having trouble processing Tony frowns as he pushes a lock of hair back and off of her face. "I gave Happy_ yesterday_ off completely. He's on call today."

"Tony says we're bringing the limo," she tells her brother over the phone, though she realizes at the last minute that he might have figured that out already. They're not exactly whispering after all.

"I won't have to worry about leg room then. I'll see you in a few minutes. Ginny, do me a favor please, and put me on the phone with your boss for a moment again."

She blinks at the request a moment but then hands the receiver over.

"Yeah?" Tony asks as he watches Pepper close her eyes. Her face is red and blotchy and he'd really prefer she sleep, but he's also damned sure that he's not leaving her here alone.

"Has she hurt herself?" The question makes him blink repeatedly.

"Uhm, no. But she's sick and she's got a fever. I don't think she's having much luck keeping food down." 'Hurt herself?' He feels literally sick to his stomach.

"How bad of a fever? Over one hundred?"

Tony looks up. "Jarvis, what's Pepper's body temperature at the moment?"

"100.2, Sir," the AI responds back immediately.

"100.2" Tony relays the information.

Mick sighs in what Tony assumes is relief. "Okay that's not to bad. Do me a favor, make sure she has a glass of water after you hang up, and bring extra fluids along. If she's got a fever she's probably halfway dehydrated, which is making the hysteria worse."

"I'll try but she's having trouble keeping things down." Pepper flinches in his arms. "Look we'll be there in about an hour. I'll do what I can for her in the meantime."

"Thank you. I owe you a beer when this is over."

He raises an eyebrow. "Why? I'd have done it whether you existed or not."

"Then I owe you two beers. And maybe caramel rolls for breakfast in the morning."

Mick disconnects with a click before Tony can think of a suitable reply. Tony stares at it several seconds himself, before he snaps shut the phone and offers it back to Pepper.

"Okay, we're meeting him in an hour, Pepper. Do you think you can stand?" He carefully pulls her to her feet. Then he reaches down and flushes the toilet with a grimace. "No wonder you're so shaky, Potts. You're not keeping anything down."

She shakes her head. "I'm fine, Tony. I probably just ate too fast. I'll try some more apple juice or some tea, just nothing solid this time. Please call Happy. Mick's new to L.A. And I don't want him stuck in that awful terminal any longer than necessary."

Tony sighs. "It's going to take Happy twenty minutes at minimum just to get here, Pepper." He waits until he's absolutely sure she's not the slightest bit wobbly before he removes his arm from around her waist. "Look do you want to take a shower in the meantime? Get a little spruced up before you go and see your brother?"

She almost asks him in all seriousness if she needs one, but then decides that would probably betray a greater disconnect than she wants to reveal. So instead she gives him a jerky nod as she considers the consequences of meeting her brother at the airport while dressed in her boss's sweats.

It's not a pretty thought. She shakes her head. "There a bag in my trunk with a change of clean clothes. Your sweats aren't quite up to public standards, no offense."

"Why Potts, I'm hurt." Tony's voice is dry. Though he looks quite obviously relieved that she's coming back to herself. "Okay, then I'm going to call Happy, and then I'll go get your suitcase. Alright? I want you to stay in the shower at least until I come back with you things. A little time in the hot water will probably be good for you. You're strung out and shivering."

The sheer amount of concern on his face is enough to make her nod, because in the aftermath of what just happened, she has to admit his concerns for her current physical and emotional state are seeming more and more valid.

Her control over things has been slipped farther than she'd remotely comfortable with.

He reaches out to her like he wants to touch her, but then his hand falls back to his side, "I'll be back soon." he promises in a carefully modulated voice.

Then he leaves the room. As soon as she does she starts stripping out of her clothes.

She is shaking and feeling more and more numb by the minute, but none of that matters any more. Mick's here for a visit and she's not going to keep him waiting.

Seventeen minutes later Happy's pulling the car around to the front of the house, and Tony is already at the front door with her coat in his hand. He allows helps her slip it on, even fastening up the top couple of buttons when she simply stands there if unaware of how cold it's become outside in the last couple of hours. He walks with her to the edge of the driveway and gestures her into the limo first, motioning her toward the larger of the two seats. He's relieved when she sinks down into the far corner, leaning back with a quiet sigh before looking at him with increasingly tired eyes.

"Your brother told me to make sure you drank a lot. He thinks you're probably dehydrated. And with all the puking you're doing it's not an unreasonable assumption." He reaches into his own coat pocket, producing a bottle of juice before opening the mini fridge and pulling out another bottle. "You've got two options, Pepper. More apple juice or lemon-lime seltzer. When I was sick my mom used to give me that because it's easy on the stomach..."

"Water please." Pepper sticks her thumbnail between her teeth and glances out the window before pulling her hand away from her mouth. She rubs it against her leg before she folds both hands tightly in her lap.

Then she stares blankly not so much _at_ as _past_ him.

'She's not really listening,' Tony realizes with alarm. Or more precisely, while she's here in body her mind is still very much somewhere else that doesn't allow much higher processing. He's fairly certain at the moment it's not a personal insult though, just another symptom of the current crisis at hand.

Still though she needs to be intaking fluids, and so he sighs and pulls out the closest thing he can find to what she's requested. It's a bottle of what amounts to high priced sports water that at least will provide some vitamins and electrolytes. He twists off the cap and offers it to her, carefully folding her palms around it when she lets it slip through her hands. "Drink." His voice is firm, but also tender. More tender than he should probably be letting it get, considering the current situation.

Pepper scarcely notices, though she does take several sips. Then the taste finally registers, and then she starts gulping greedily. He pulls back the bottle before she can have more than half of a cup. "Let's see how you handle that before we give you more, hmm?"

He caps the bottle and sets it on the bench next to him. Pepper's pale and more disconnected than he's ever seen her before and it nearly terrifies him.

If _something_ about her manner doesn't improve by the time they've picked up her brother, they're going to the nearest hospital with or without her permission.

Because this isn't right, and whether she knows it or not, he knows that she's both sick and pregnant.

'It's like she's in a daze...like she simply exploded in the bathroom.' And now all that's left are shards that she's not even fully aware of.

A moment of so later, he offers the bottle again, and this time when she drinks, she's able to do so alone. "Thank you," she murmurs softly when she's drunk perhaps another third of the bottle. That makes his tension ease a little: at least she's finally aware of him.

'This is my fault.' He doesn't know why he knows that, he just knows that it's true. This kind of physical and mental damage doesn't happen in a day. 'It has to have been building for weeks.' And unforgivably he'd never seen it was happening.

It makes him wonder things about her self-control, how she can be a little off her game but otherwise "normal" one day, and then completely broken and possibly just a touch insane the next without clear visible warning.

Yes, everyone has their breaking point, but hers seems to be more of a shatter point than a breaking point.

That speaks of a history of managing stress he's not certain he wants to contemplate.

Pepper meanwhile, is mostly locked in her own head. She doesn't seem to notice his careful scrutiny. Instead her eyes are on the scenery flashing by the window; her fingers pick at a loose corner of the label on her bottle and her foot is tapping.

Pepper's fidgeting, but it's the only clearly visible sign he can see of her internal distress.

He waits until she finishes the bottle of water, and then hands her the one of juice from his pocket. "So...Mick. You have a brother?"

It's not accusing in the slightest, or rather he hopes that it doesn't come across as such. Instead it's an offer to talk he's hoping won't be considered too intrusive for her to respond to. This disconnection she's been prone to ever since her collapse in the bathroom has him more than a little concerned, and right now he'll do all he can to assure her return to clear thinking.

"Yeah. Michael. Though I call him Mick." She seems to hear herself because she tears her eyes away from the window and stares at the new bottle in her hands. "But I guess you'd figured that out already."

'She's not even aware she already told me his name.' "Older or younger?" he inquires choosing not to share that information, "And does he have the standard Potts' temper, or am I going to get a break?"

The jab is meant to get her to smile, and she does, albeit minutely.

"It's Michael Andrews actually, not Michael Potts," she informs him. "I was the only one growing up in my house who had that particular last name. And he's younger than me by two years, a classic laid back surfer bum if you really want to know."

That seems to be about all she's willing to volunteer. Her eyes are drifting back towards the window as if she needs to actually make sure they're still moving. He's beginning to realize how much of her current level of control is focused on picking up her brother. "The only Potts, huh? I take it you were a foster kid, then?" He realizes after he asks that it might have not been wise to from the way that she flinches.

Pepper drags her eyes back from the window and look him directly in the face. "No. Mick and I are half siblings. We just had different mothers." She holds his gaze for several seconds then, daring him to say something else on the subject.

"I'm sorry for you and your dad. It must have been hard to lose your mom." He's assuming if Mick is younger that that means her father had been widowed. He's not sure he understands though, how that equates to Pepper having a different last name.

"My father walked out on my mom. She was his extramarital affair. Or at least the only one he had that had the nerve to get pregnant as a result." Pepper shakes her head and looks away; her shoulders hunch a little as she turns more fully towards the window.

"And yet he obviously took you in. So he's not totally a bastard." He doesn't know why he can't quit talking. Maybe because he's learned more about her in the last two minutes than he has in the last eight and a half _years_.

There's something very wrong with that fact, he realizes as he sits there studying her.

"He was out of the country when the social workers brought me to his house. His wife wasn't left with much of an option. My mother was dead and it was them or foster care. She was a 'good Christian woman' who knew her duty, apparently." Pepper shrugs, "Besides, Mick took a shine to me when he saw me. He wanted a sister with red hair apparently."

Pepper's voice is tense and just a little harsh, a clear warning he supposed that he should push this no farther. And so he retreats. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry." He reaches out as if to squeeze her shoulder, than pulls his hand back. "I didn't mean to poke at sore spots, Pepper. I know that family can be...difficult sometimes."

She doesn't reply. She just stares out the window. And then she sighs and relaxes, like she's made the decision not to hold his questions against him. Or at least, he hopes she's decided that. "Mick actually thought I was an angel." She actually smiles just the tiniest bit. "He kept asking that first week where I was hiding my wings."

'So her brother's a safe topic.' That he's willing to work with. "A surfer bum, you say? Is that in style of dress or as a hobby? Because I've got some boards in the basement he's welcome to borrow while he's here." Assuming Pepper and him were going to hang around the mansion at all.

"He does like to surf, though I don't know how long since he's been. His work keeps him out of the country for long spans of time. It's been nine months since I last saw him."

Which would explain why she'd told him once she didn't have anyone else, Tony realizes, because if that's her brother's schedule than most of the time she probably _doesn't._

But that's morbid and he wants to try and relax her, so he goes for humor instead, "So tell me something Pepper, do you think he'll find a lend from my fleet to be an adequate substitute to a rental car at the airport?"

Pepper actually smirks in reply, "He's going to have a public orgasm when he gets a look at your fleet - though I warn you if you give him something _too_ nice he'll spend the rest of his visit following you around like an overly enthusiastic puppy."

Tony shrugs. He's used to people hanging around him for their own benefit. "Well he did also say he was going to make a batch of caramel rolls. Which I'm not sure I understand." There's a spark of humor that actually lights in her eyes when he admits that.

"Ohhh...I can't wait to see _this_," she murmurs under her breath as she looks away.

"Can't wait to see _what_, Potts? You're scaring me here." He doesn't know why, but her grin grows even wider as she simply looks him up and down.

"My brother's...unique." she informs him after an extremely protracted minute. "Among other things he's a brilliant pastry chef."

"Unique." Tony's not sure what to make of her tone. It's somewhere between anticipatory and a little bit longsuffering. Still it's more spirit than he's seen from her thus far, so he's not going to complain.

He lets her watch the scenery for the rest of the drive because he's not sure he can take much more of her insight into her brother.

He has a feeling it will be a memorable first meeting.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hello, Sweetie

"Hello, Sweetie. _Well hello, Sexy_." Mick says the first to his sister and the second to the man with his arm wrapped around her as they both approach the Caribou Coffee. Then the younger man gets up from his seat and strides forward to enfold Pepper in his arms.

Mick frowns at the tremulous, subtle way that his sister is shaking. "Do we need to take a seat, Ginny? You're looking really tired."

Pepper only shakes her head and wraps her arms around him tighter.

Anthony Stark, who first steps back when Mick steps forward to embrace his sister, holds out a hand to shake, never takes his eyes off Pepper. "A seat would be good, and if you don't object I'd like to get her a juice and me a coffee before we leave." He shrugs. "I think the walk from the parking lot took a bit too much out of her. She really needs some more sleep. In the meantime let her rest while I get us something to drink."

Pepper ignores the commentary as she looks up at the man she's leaning against. God, he even smells familiar and homey and it eases something in her chest that's been dying under the weight of all the strangeness in her life recently. She closes her eyes and just soaks the comfort in. "It's good to see you, Mick. It's been too long."

Her brother hugs her back, though his eyes are on Tony who's pulling out his wallet. Mick notes the way that the other man frowns a little, though he can't determine what's upsetting him. Then he looks down at the woman looking up into his face. "Hmm… You've lost ten pounds at least since the last time I saw you. I think you're hitting the rabbit food a little hard, sis."

He watches as Stark frowns even more. "She's lost fifteen pounds, not ten, and that's at minimum." He shifts so Pepper can see his face. "And speaking of which: the juice stayed down this time and they have soup here as well. Do you want to try a bowl?"

Pepper shakes her head. "Crackers, please. Soup can be greasy sometimes. I don't want to risk throwing up again if I can help it."

Mick pushes her back gently and frowns. "Again? As in multiple times? Are you having that much trouble with nausea?"

"Yes. Twice in the last four hours alone. She needs to see a doctor. But she's being stubborn about it." Tony engages in a staring contest of sorts with Pepper, but she doesn't back down. Sighing heavily he gives up and goes to stand in line.

Pepper looks after Tony as he examines the food in the display case, then pulls Mick at least ten feet further from where they'd been. "Mick?" She bites her lip and peeks at Tony again. "Okay, you have to swear to keep your mouth shut about this because Tony doesn't know, and I prefer to keep it that way."

Mick raises an eyebrow, then crosses his heart. "Though I won't hope to die."

She draws a deep breathe then whispers the words. "I'm six weeks pregnant, Mick, that's why I'm so nauseous. The morning sickness is kicking the crap out of me."

When Mick's face starts to border on furious, Pepper pulls him a little farther away. "It's not Tony's," she hisses at her brother. "So any plans you have that involve hurting him, I want you to forget right now. This isn't his fault."

If anyone is to be blamed for this, it's her.

She can see her brother study her, can watch his brain process. Then he steps forward and hugs her again. "We're going to the hospital," her younger brother pronounces.

She stiffens in his arms when he finally speaks, because behind him, Tony has just returned.

He's echoing Mick's suggestion with an emphatic nod of his head. "I agree. Happy can take us there before we go home."

"We're not going to a hospital. I'm just a little under the weather." The arms that have until now been inviting her to actually let go of things for a little while are now a little too tight around her. Mick's agitated and she hates when he gets this protective.

"Fifteen pounds is not 'a little' Ginny." Mick pushes her back, and she knows the look on his face even if she hasn't seen it since she was fifteen years old. He's going to give her two options: she can go the hospital with him, or he can drag her there kicking and screaming.

She doesn't have the energy for this. "It's just the stress, like Tony said. All I need is quiet, light food, and sleep. I'll be fine in a few days."

"Virginia Potts, you look like death warmed over. You might have an infection which means you need basic blood work drawn, and possibly antibiotics. At minimum you need meds to help with the nausea."

This isn't what she'd wanted, nor is it what she'd hoped. She wants a shoulder to lean on, but she's gotten a different variant of Mick entirely. Her brother can be very…Gestapo…at times. Especially where her physical safety is concerned. Before she can speak up and defend her right to make her own choices, though, help comes from the last place she expects.

"Might I suggest a compromise?" Tony speaks very quietly. His eyes are locked Mick and even though Pepper isn't sure what it is that passes them between them, she feels her brother relax a little and tilt his head in agreement.

Her employer takes a deep breath, "I've got a lot of medical scanning equipment back at the house, and my computer can analyze basic blood work as well as any ER can -"

"No!" Pepper interrupts, though when both men look at her she seems surprised by the strength of her own objection. She can't guarantee Jarvis's confidentiality…nor his loyalty after he'd helped lock her in last night.

Besides if they scan her at the mansion there is no way she can possibly keep her secret.

Tony sighs when he finally responds. "Pepper, I'll guarantee you your privacy. All I'm trying to save you is four hours in a waiting room." He rubs the back of his neck and then looks at Mick. Whatever decision he makes is made quickly because he looks back at Pepper. "Pepper, I already _know_," he tells her softly, and the way he meets her eyes leaves her with little doubt to what he's referring too.

"You know?" Her voice is quiet. She pales considerably. She can almost feel her foundations crumbling away underneath her.

How does he…oh lord, has she really been that obvious?

"I was panicked after last night, Pepper. I didn't want to invade your privacy, but if you had needed to go to the hospital, I needed to know." Tony watches as Pepper starts shivering. Her fingers pluck at the loose edges of her coat and she pulls it tighter around her body.

"You...know?" She says the words again. Like a fading mist under the heat of the sun.

Tony's face is apologetic. "You were nearly hysterical last night, Pepper, not to mention severely tachycardic." He taps his chest lightly in a gesture she knows so well. "The evaluative subroutine was supposed to be for me because of this, but I never specified its user. When your heart rate reached a certain level Jarvis ran it automatically. He picked up two heart beats; it wasn't that difficult to put it together."

Pepper breaks eye contact after only a moment, and moves away from Tony but not so far that she loses contact with her brother. "The mansion's fine, Mr. Stark," she murmurs dully. "The last thing I need is for someone to recognize you at a hospital while you're waiting with me."

The pain that crosses Tony's face is almost agonizing. What he feels, though, isn't comparable in the slightest to what Pepper _needs_. "Pepper, if that's your greatest fear right now, I'll let your brother take you." He shudders a little. 'Even if it kills me to stay uninvolved.'

She shakes her head. "You're right about the waiting room," she apparently says to him, though her eyes are firmly on her shoes. "The house is probably the better option. It will also take less time"

Mick's the next one to speak, though right now he's staring at Tony with a look so scrutinizing that it makes the engineer want to squirm. "You have tech at your place that picked up she's pregnant without even a blood test at six weeks?" Pepper winces to hear her condition vocalized, even if Mick does say the unspoken softly.

The other man nods,. "I loathe doctors myself, and I have a small… heart issue that requires careful monitoring. Not to mention I have the money." At that, Pepper's eyes fly up to Tony's, though he's now looking away and so doesn't see the shock in them. 'It's probably just as well,' she thinks, shaken once again by the pure strength of her emotions. She's not sure why she's ready to defend her employer from her brother...

'You're lying again, Virginia.' Fine, she loves him. And she worries for him because while Ironman is apparently invulnerable, Tony Stark isn't, and he's the one she can't bear to lose even if she's trying to give him up. The fewer people who know about the arc reactor, the better - and that includes keeping the secret from her own brother if necessary.

"Small heart condition?" Mick quirks an eyebrow, unfortunately he is being characteristically nosy when given incomplete information.

"Michael!" Her voice cuts him off sharply, but Tony simply raises a hand.

"It's okay, Pepper. I chose to tell him. Consider it penance for invading your privacy last night." He looks at Mick. "I'll give you details if you want them, but only someplace a little less public than this."

"Mick? Do you have all your things?" Pepper asks wearily, because this isn't even a subject for discussion in her mind, but she knows both men are going to ignore her. At least they can get back to the house where she can go hide in the guest bedroom.

"Do you have enough space for three at you place? Namely more than two bedrooms?" Mick asks Tony just a little too bluntly.

Pepper groans. "Mick you know who he is!" A small army could probably live in Anthony Stark's house. Although, maybe Tony doesn't want the both of them there...which she can understand.

He hasn't said anything about her pregnancy really, and she can't tell what he thinks which worries her, so maybe he'd welcome some space.

"We can go back to my place," Pepper offers softly, mainly because she knows that Mick will lecture her for hours once he sees what she's done at her apartment. Though, once again, she'd kind of expected Tony to say something about the boxes of personal belongings in her trunk, and he hasn't said anything about that either.

"Pepper, your house is packed, judging by the state of your trunk. At least come to a place with real beds."

"You packed your house?" Mick suddenly speaks up with a carefully modulated growl.

Pepper flinches, both at Tony's exceptionally poor timing and Mick's reaction. "I was planning a trip to come see you," she tells her brother, although now it's his eyes she can't quite meet. "Do we really have to do this in the middle of an airport?"

"You're both welcome at my house. I'll open the west wing." Tony shrugs. "It's not the Ritz, but you'll both have your space and decently comfortable beds." He hands Pepper another juice and a package of crackers.

"Thank you," she says softly, accepting what he offers. "Don't let him fool you, Mick. The only difference between his house and the Ritz is that there's no cook. But I guess that's solved now."

The look of relief on Tony's face is almost heartbreaking, and she realizes at that moment that she's going to have to be very, very careful the next few days. Tony's genuinely trying to help, and she may be heightening his sense of rejection by trying to skirt her own pain as much as possible.

And that's unfair to a man who has worked very hard lately to just be her friend.

She reaches and gently bumps his arm, only for a second, but still deliberately. "This bottle cap is stuck. Put your engineering genius to work and open it for me." She means it as some kind of unvoiced signal that it's not actually her intention to hurt him, but his fingers brush hers as he takes the bottle, and they're so _hot_...

The memory flashes. Darkness and warm skin. The sensation of being held down, suddenly and much too roughly.

She can't recall clearly if she said no or not. The alcohol had left things muddled in her head.

Her hand recoils. The bottle drops and the glass makes a popping sound as it shatters on the floor. Pepper can't help the way she jumps in surprise any more than she can tear her eyes away from the shattered glass and spilled orange juice that's now on the floor.

And the metaphor of it all just grows unbearably. "Hey look...it's like me. Only not so many pieces," she says with more than a little amusement in her voice. It certainly strikes her as funny, or at least it does until she looks up into two pairs of disbelieving eyes. 'Oh...shit.'

Mick actually physically steps back at the same moment Tony steps forward. "Not even _close_, Potts," Anthony Stark murmurs, breaking his own promise and pulling her gently against his chest. Because while he's been trying to respect her space, the instinct right now is to comfort.

And the woman in front of him is teetering on the knife's edge, even if he doesn't know specifically why.

Pepper refrains from asking if it's not even close or if_ she's_ not even close. Apparently her disconnect from earlier is still running strong. She doesn't even point out that he's hugging her in the middle of an airport and people are looking, because then he'll stop.

She thinks that would probably be bad. She's pretty sure that she's going to fall apart if someone doesn't hold her together. And that, it seems, is going to be a big enough job for both men.

So she closes her eyes and lets him hold her. "I..I need to lie down," she admits against his chest. When Tony responds by stooping and physically lifting her, she surprises herself by not protesting. She's too tired now to reject any comfort in offer.

Instead she closes her eyes and rests her head against his shoulder.

6969696969696969

By the time they make it back to the limo, Pepper's gone from shaky and pretending to doze to actually asleep. Tony doesn't know if that makes him more worried or more relieved. He only knows it's good to be able to hold her. He's been fighting the impulse off and on all day to touch her, the instinct to comfort constantly battling with reason.

He's beginning to think that at this point that reason is getting him nowhere. He'll stick with instinct for the time being.

Happy looks worried as he opens the door for Tony and the trunk for Mick, but he doesn't say anything at the moment. Tony hopes he'll remember to bring it up if his bodyguard doesn't. Pepper might be totally unaware of it, but most of his staff absolutely adores her for putting up with all his shit and his excesses so that they don't have to. She's the one person _everyone _can go running to with a problem and be able to count on it getting fixed.

As he eases her into the car, Tony wonders who the hell she has to run to. A brother who's usually out of the country? A boss she obviously feels she can't reverse roles with?

It's yet another thing he's going to have to find a way to fix.

One they're all inside, Happy closes the door and starts the car. Tony supposes that the proper thing at this moment is to lay Pepper out on the smaller of the two seats and allow himself and Mick to share the other. 'Screw proper,' he decides, particularly when she whimpers as he starts to lay her down.

If she's more comfortable in his arms that's where she's going to stay. He motions to the smaller bench with his head, then settles onto the larger one with her still cradled across his lap. "There's a blanket in the compartment behind you. Would you mind getting it for me?"

"Is she cold?" Mick reaches into the small cabinet and pulls out a cashmere blanket. He hands it over without another word, though his eyes are saying plenty. They're the eyes of a man assessing a situation and finding it lacking in some way.

"She's not shivering anymore, but I'm not taking any chances. Her body's under enough stress right now as it is." Tony's voice is self condemning, "I should never have allowed her to come, not when she's so tired and sick."

"I haven't seen her in awhile, but I know my sister, Stark. Unless you were planning to lock her in her room or something, I don't think you were going to stop her."

"She listens to me when I put my foot down. And I knew it was a bad idea..." He chews his lip, then leans back, smacking his head hard once against seatback cushion... "I just...after what's happened, I figured she needs as much freedom of _choice_ as she can possibly get."

"What do you mean, 'after what happened?'" Mick's voice doesn't get any louder but it definitely becomes sharper – more harsh.

Tony sighs. "It's...it's not my place to tell you. I've invaded her privacy enough as it is." His arms tighten around Pepper, just the tiniest bit, and he sighs as he looks down at her still face. "Just...go easy, please Andrews. The last two months have probably been a nightmare for her that's just refused to end."

"You think she was raped?" Mick asks softly, putting together the pieces, though in a voice that's downright deadly.

It's enough to make Tony wonder what the man does for a living.

"Unless you want to tell me there's another reason Jarvis also picked up evidence of widespread deep bruising." He admits after a moment. "I checked over the tapes and she was moving stiff and slow whenever I wasn't in the room." .

Mick's eyes jump to his sister and his lips tighten so much they disappear into a thin white line, but he makes no move to take her from Tony. After several minutes of silence he slouches back in his seat and stares at her with narrowed eyes. "While Ginny's ability to ignore the things to bother her is seemingly matchless, that's one thing I don't think she could hide for this long."

"Being raped? Or being beaten?" Tony looks almost nauseous as he asks the question. "Because I've been thinking about it, and I can almost pin down when I'm guessing it happened. Not an exact date, but probably the week."

"Either. Don't tell me you haven't figured out yet that she avoids physical contact. Especially with people she doesn't absolutely trust. Rape would have been too big a trauma. Besides, she's just stubborn enough in her views on violence toward women to have not called the police."

Tony shakes his head, wishing he could believe that. "No dice, Mick. I've seen her come into work the morning after getting laid. Granted it's not that often, but she does go out seeking company, and after she does she usually rides high on the rush for two days to a week. Besides repression is not that atypical a reaction to rape, at least not from what I've been able to read."

"I'm sure she does ride high." Mick's tone puts a connotative spin on his words that Tony doesn't understand. "I hear cheating death can give you that same kind of fix."

Tony just raises his head and stares at him blankly. "Okay, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Mick just drops his head back onto the back of the seat. He breathes slowly for a few seconds before raising his head again. "Ever do anything that terrified you just to prove you can, Stark?" Mick watches as the other man puts the pieces together in his head, rearranging them until his body jerks slightly

"You're...no. You can't possible mean what you're implying."

Mick shrugs. "I could be wrong. I haven't seen her in two years and a lot can be hidden over a phone conversation. I'll need to talk to her." But his face is bleak. "It's not impossible though, given her history." He shakes his head. "I'm going to need to wring her neck if I'm right about this."

'You won't be the only one.' Though Tony's not ready to admit that he's right. "If you're correct, Andrews, then why in heck would she find herself a lover that's into sadomasochism? Isn't that just a little bit over the top?"

Because the way Tony sees it, there's brave and there's stupidly crazy.

Mick's jaw drops a little, and a light goes on in his eyes. "Oh my god. I'm going to have to kill her. She's the most self destructive little twit that I've ever..." The younger man trails off before he pins Tony with a look. "I'm not saying she goes out looking for pain. How often have you so much as touched her shoulder, or held her hand to help her out of a chair? Let me guess - next to never. And she trusts you, Stark. Ten minutes alone with the two of you and I can _see_ how much she trusts you."

He makes a soft sound of frustration when Tony still looks bewildered. "It's the physical proximity, Stark. It's making it through a one night stand without some degree of emotional or mental breakdown that gives her a rush. Any pleasure is probably secondary. Consider it her version of skydiving. Except she's doing it in the bedroom."

"You saying she's going out and getting laid because she hates sex?" Tony shakes his head. "That makes no sense. Explain the bruising."

"I'm saying she's trying to prove something to herself. And she probably chose a partner who got her in over her head. Look, Tony...you're missing some vital information."

Mick leans forward in his seat and braces his elbows on his knees. "Okay I'm about to reveal more about my sister's sex life than I ever wanted to know, but if you panic and she finds out, she'll kill me anyway. A disclaimer though? I only know myself because we'd both gotten very drunk, and she started it by giving me a hard time about my dating habits."

Mick scrubs his face with his hands then seems to bite the bullet. "Ginny's pattern for a night out on the town is this: she goes out, has a glass or two of wine, then finds a man who's nice enough that she can relax around him. She takes him back to her place where she'll be most comfortable, and she tries to get through it. Sometimes she doesn't, and the guy ends up leaving. Other times she does – probably the days that you've noticed. But she tends to pick strangers, always after the wine, and I don't need to tell you that not every guy out there will show proper care to a slightly tipsy but beautiful woman when she practically drags them into her bed. I'm betting this time she ended up with a terrible loser."

The color drops out of Tony's face until he's sickly white. "You said that she always has alcohol first before she does this…does it have to be wine? Or can it be another kind of mixer?"

Tony's stomach is churning. 'She asked me to get her a martini.' Which would have been enough to make her tipsy, but not enough to stop him.

If she'd shown genuine interest and offered he probably would have taken her home…

Oh God, what had she almost let him _do_?

Would his child have been why she'd been throwing up this morning?

'Oh my fucking...' Mick is absolutely _dumbfounded_ by how little these two seem to know about each other after nearly a decade of working together. The only thing that makes this even remotely bearable is Stark seems to really care about his sister. "She says it's always been wine, Stark. And given what she does, I'm not surprised there's a touch of ritual involved. It probably helps her calm down. But why are you panicking? Just what the hell have you been doing the past ten years? Ginny's got no tolerance at all for hard alcohol. Two gin and tonics and she's practically _unconscious_."

That doesn't seem to ease the fine tension in the man who's in front of him, though Mick's not sure why, until the man starts talking again, spilling out what he considers a horrifying story.

"Yeah well, I'm afraid she might have graduated recently to martinis."

Tony draws a deep and shaky breath. "We...a few months ago we were at a benefit. She had this dress…more revealing than anything I have ever seen her wear before. We danced...she was obviously uncomfortable, but she let me touch her and she touched back more than we have in the past five years. When we went out on the balcony after, she babbled for about ten minutes straight. Then she tried to kiss me, only to chicken out at the last possible minute...I wasn't sure why."

Tony swallows hard, "And after she pulled back, she didn't tell me to leave, instead she asked me to and bring her back an extra dry martini. If the pattern holds that means she was probably going to…" He can't finish the sentence.

"Yeah, well one kiss is just about _all_ you would have gotten out of her at that point," Mick mutters as he gently lifts Pepper out of Tony's arms, and motions his head toward the glass. "If you're going to puke, do it out the window. I've got a weak stomach."

Tony forces himself to inhale and exhale. "Her tolerance is more than you think, Andrews, too many years around me..." He looks at the woman across from him a moment. "She...if I hadn't gotten distracted we probably would have..." He didn't know what they would have done.

But he has some idea, and right now he's really not liking any of the available possibilities. "What..._Why_? What in hell happened to make her like this?" The words pour out as he looks at the woman in Mick's arms because he needs to know if he's going to not lose his mind.

He wants to know what kind of demon he's fighting.

Mick's face, once open if irritated, closes so fast Tony knows he's not going to get any more information out of him. The younger man sighs, "Okay, that's _definitely _not a story for me to tell, especially since I only know bits and pieces. If Ginny ever actually tells you _anything _about her past, then I'll forgive you both for being dumbasses because it'll probably mean that you two are fated..."

He gives Tony a hard look. "Have you ever considered that maybe it was just a night of really intense sex, Stark? She wouldn't be the first woman to have a hard time walking the next day."

"Intense sex doesn't give you lasting and likely intensely painful bruises on your upper arms, or at least they shouldn't if your partner knows what they're doing." The look Tony gives him is almost vicious. "Look, I'm going to assume that whatever it is that happened to her occurred before Child Services dropped her on your doorstep. Because if I'm wrong, I'm not sure that I'm going to be able to live with not killing your father. Or Coach. Or Uncle. Or whoever the fuck it was who did what I'm pretty much guessing they did." Tony shudders again. "Oh god, that means it had to have happened before she was _nine_."

Mick gapes, "Wait...she_ told _you about that? About how she came to live with us?"

"She admitted that your father was a bastard who couldn't keep his pants zipped. Though apparently he was also tricky enough about it that your mom didn't know he'd abandoned his own kid before she was dumped on your doorstep."

Pepper moans and shifts in Mick's cradling arms, and Mick sees Tony's arms physically twitch. 'He wants her back.' He may even _need _her back. The younger man assesses this carefully.

Well if he had any question about the state of this relationship, he's got pretty much all the information he needs.

"You two are_ so_ fucked up, but you're definitely in love with her." he whispers as he carefully shifts Pepper back over to Tony. That she hasn't woken up yet is just evidence of how hard she's been driving herself.

"Yeah well, forgive me, but I've known less than three months now. I've been trying to figure out what best to do….If I hadn't come home from that party early she would have..." Tony shudders.

Then he looks up from Pepper's face and studies her brother intently. "What did you mean this morning, Mick? On the phone. You asked me if she'd 'hurt herself?'"

"I didn't mean had she actively tried to hurt herself. Pepper's too reasonable to do that. Or at least, too aware of what people might think and do if she tried. But I'd say a loss of fifteen pounds she didn't need to lose in six weeks is only a step below actively hurting herself."

"That's partly my fault," Tony acknowledges after a minute. He looks at the woman in his arms. "We have an agreement. She's normally only allowed so much overtime a week before I start giving her hell. She...she's been pushing that boundary and I've been letting her. I think because...well I think she may have felt safer at the house and I was picking it up subconsciously." He just shakes his head.

"I should have made her talk. But I'm completely outside my comfort zone, here."

Mick settles further into his seat and considers the problem. "I think you were probably right not to push her," he finally says. "She's never responded well to that tactic."

"Then what _do_ I do..." Tony shakes his head. "Because I'm at the point where I'm not sure she can take care of herself anymore."

"Stark, she's letting you take care of her already if you haven't noticed," Mick points out gruffly. "Don't worry about that right now. What we need to worry about is what to do once she regains enough strength to really start fighting us again."

"You think she's going to come out swinging then?" It isn't really a question. "Or am I going to get stuck with the business like intractability she's made herself so famous for?"

Tony clenches his jaw. "Either way it really doesn't matter. She owes me thirty days notice, and I'm not afraid to use that. It'll at least keep her here until I have time to regroup"

Mick just raises on eyebrow. "Actually, Stark, I thought you might be open to an option that doesn't involve you butting heads with her." The younger man waits for a reaction.

"Depends on what it involves." Tony admits after a moment. "But you gave me a chance to make an argument, so go ahead and lay it on me." He unconsciously tightens his grip on the woman in his arms, and leans back a little bit against the seat.

Mick just shakes his head at the display, though he doesn't comment on it. He's not about to get into a pissing contest with a man who's being shut out by the woman he loves. "I don't know how much Ginny's told you about our relationship, but it's not unusual for her and I to go head to head over various...issues."

All of which usually had a direct impact on her mental health.

"I've gotten pretty good at dragging the painful details out, but I gave it up when she moved out here. She just didn't have any friends she was close enough to who could provide the support she needed if I had to go at her from over a phone. But that's not an issue now, is it?"

Mick doesn't sound boastful, or possessive, or even happy about any of this. He sounds tired, and looks it, but he also looks determined. "Let me pull the truth out of her. If I've read her right so far, you'll be the one she goes to when she can't take me anymore."

"Are you _sure_ about that?" Tony looks down at the woman in his lap. "With this particular topic as the problem, I may be the last one she runs too. After all," He grimaces, then shakes his head a little. "_You're_ not the one who'll end up the direct representation of her likely fear of sex."

Mick winces. "True. Well, I guess we'll play it by ear. But I think good cop/bad cop is definitely the way to go. She won't talk unless she's forced to, and I refuse to force her unless she's got someone to retreat to afterwards who can help her work everything out."

Tony sighs. "I can get behind that plan. I'll say this frankly though: I'm not ready yet to rule out rape as an option. Because if she got drunk enough that someone could seriously bruise her and she didn't stop them, that makes me wonder if she _could_, and that brings up serious issues of consent."

"I agree with you there. I suggest we tag team her. Who's good cop and bad will probably vary with the situation. Although frankly, I don't think that either of us should do anything but be support until she's at least medically more stable than she is."

"Agreed." The billionaire sighs. "This is a nightmare already. I mean alcohol and strangers...? She'd have been safer hiring a hooker. Because vetting candidates while tipsy is not an acceptable option to me."

Mick actually snorts, and then - unbelievably - starts laughing. He manages to muffle most of the sound, but his shoulders are shaking almost uncontrollably.

Tony frowns. "Okay you mind explaining what's so hilarious? Because there's no god-damn joke in here to me."

"If you knew how many times I've heard my sister complain about making double black coffee for her 'boss' while ushering women out of the house..." He stops laughing when he sees Tony's face. "Com'on, Stark. You have to admit the irony is pretty blatant."

"It wasn't the same..." Tony says a little hoarsely. "I have a bodyguard who was there and a house security system to protect me. I have – had - a vetting system, and she's been completely on her own."

Mick raises his hands, "Hey, I'm not pointing fingers. I'm just saying it struck me as funny, that's all."

"That's because you have an inappropriate sense of humor." The whispered commentary comes from the woman in Tony's lap. "As if you're even one to talk, Michael."

Mick is about to defend his habits when Tony shakes his head and raises a hand to his lips. "Do you want some juice?" he quietly asks her.

Both wait a moment but Pepper gives no response. Instead she murmurs softly, face scrunching in discomfort. "My stomach _hurts,_" she finally murmurs into the silence. Then she shifts her face against Tony's chest and her breathing evens out again.

"Do you think she heard us?" Mick asks a minute or so later.

Tony shrugs. "She'd been fading in and out all day long, and she rarely remembers."

"You know...I wonder..." Mick catches Tony's frustrated gaze. "I've got a...a friend...who's hypoglycemic. Her brain processes get distinctly wonky when her blood sugar levels plummet."

Tony pauses. "Well she has been losing weight...is hypoglycemia common when you're pregnant, I wonder?" His nose wrinkles. "I mean I've heard of the opposite...gestational diabetes, but I always thought that was the result of too much blood sugar."

"Actually, hypoglycemia can be a complication of diabetes. And if she's got gestational diabetes but doesn't know it... Damn," Mick curses under his breath. "We're going to have to get her in to see at least a physician."

"I'll hire a private obstetrician to come out to the house, unless you think this merits a trip to the emergency room?" Tony shifts a little bit. "I'd like to avoid that if I can though, she's already so self conscious and her moods are really unsteady. She's going to be paranoid that she or I might be seen."

"Let's worry about getting her tested first. But if her sugars are off in any way, she's going to an emergency room whether she likes it or not." Mick mouth is set in a hard line.

"And I was worried before about her heart rate and blood pressure." Tony says a little wryly.

"Were they high or just elevated?"

"Her heart rate was 170 after laying down for almost half an hour." Tony sighs. "It calmed after that, but the only way to get her blood pressure would have been to drag her down to the basement. And considering she didn't know I knew her condition until less than an hour ago it was a confrontation I just did not want to have."

"Was she agitated?"

"Yes. She was trying to hide it, but she was almost this disconnected and just about as shaky as I have ever seen."

Mick runs a hand back through his hair. "Do you know why she was agitated?"

Tony's jaw tightens. "She'd left a resignation note on my desk and was trying to sneak out. She hadn't anticipated I'd come home from the office Christmas Party early."

The engineer sighs, looking down at Pepper, whose hair had worked itself completely loose from its prior ponytail. "Five minutes longer and..." He shivers. "I wouldn't have found that envelope before morning...and she would have probably crashed herself into a ditch..."

It's quiet for about five minutes. They're taking the turnoff to get to Tony's house when Mick stirs and says, "Can I offer some advice?"

The other man nods. "Sure. Assuming you're offering it for free."

Pepper moans, shivering a bit under the blankets. Both men freeze until she quiets again.

"Tony, tell my sister you love her." Mick's voice is intense.

This time it's Tony's turn to laugh, though the sound is not at all amused, instead it's just bitter. "I already tried to. She refused to take her Christmas gift."

"What do you normally get her for Christmas?" Mick sounds skeptical. "Didn't you get her a paperweight one year?"

"It's a necklace, Mick. An Algerian love knot in sapphire and white gold." Tony leans his head back against the seat. "I was kind of hoping she'd take the hint when she opened it. Besides," Stark defends himself calmly, "that paperweight in question was petrified wood. How many people ever get to hold something in their hands that's over 700 years old?"

"And you wonder why she put off opening the present..." Mick leans forward. "Look, you can't blame her for not taking a hint she hasn't gotten yet. Get the present, get her to open it, and then _talk _to her. Because I can tell you now, her sense of responsibility isn't going to keep her with you if she chooses to run. She's run away before, and the only thing that got her to come home was I played off the fact she loved me."

"Mick, you're the one who said not to force her into anything. And right now to get that package open, that's what'll probably be required. She said she didn't deserve it, right before she panicked and told me she was leaving. So unless you are suggesting I unwrap the thing and just put it around her neck..." He shrugs a little helplessly.

"Maybe you should. She won't be able to avoid the conversation that way."

Tony stares at Mick in complete shock for several seconds. Then a genuine smile starts to creep across his face. "You...you are _evil_..." It's clearly meant as a compliment.

"I just know my sister," Mick answers him calmly.

"Yeah well, it's a good thing. Because I'm going to be playing catch up." Tony shakes his head again. "I can not believe... I mean I've known her _ten years_. That's an eternity for her to snow me so completely."

"I think you probably know her better than you give yourself credit for." The car starts to slow. "Is this us?"

Tony looks up to see the mansion gate in front of them. "Yeah...and as I said, I'm sure we can find you a couch."

Mick's eyes widen as he takes in the size of the place. "And just how _big_ will this couch be exactly?"

Tony snorts. "Don't worry Goldilocks. It'll fit you just right."

"Whatever you say, Papa Bear."

"He's Baby Bear at best, Michael." Pepper Potts finally opens her eyes.

"God, I'm so sorry," she murmurs as she tries to sit up on her own. "I didn't mean to fall asleep like that. I don't know what's wrong with me." The move makes her nauseous, and a little bit dizzy. It also makes Tony's arms tense for a moment, before he deliberately forces himself to let her go.

"Don't worry about being sick, Potts. Let's concentrate on getting you better. You're pregnant and you've been puking on and off the last day at minimum. I think that would be too much for anyone to take." He doesn't say what he's really thinking. Which is 'the only thing you need to apologize for is the decision that brought you here.'

That's not fair to Pepper, and it won't accomplish anything meaningful. At least not until she's strong and he has a better battle plan.

"Yes, well, it's not relevant to the situation either. So I'd prefer it if you'd stop bringing it up." Her hands are white-knuckled and fisted in her hands.

"Your being pregnant is absolutely relevant if you're sick because of gestational diabetes." The words are from Mick this time, and like Tony's they're gentle, and Pepper stares at him a minute...

"You...what?"

"Pepper I'd bet my right arm that's exactly the problem at the moment."

"Great," she whispers as she looks out the window. "Yet another way to be miserable during pregnancy."

Mick snorts and pokes her arm gently. "Not necessarily. You just need to treat it. Or do you prefer we ignore it and things continue as they are? Cause last I checked you don't like to swing from happy to sad at the drop of a hat." Then Mick pauses, thinking a moment. "Besides, you have no right to complain. You might be pregnant, but I'm the one most likely to end up barefoot and stuck in the kitchen."

Pepper snorts. "Yeah, well you make better caramel rolls than me."

The limo pulls into the garage, stopping right next to the Mercedes. Tony opens the door before Happy can do so for him. "Come on Mama and Brother Bear both, let's get you both some porridge and then have Jarvis run the blood work and maybe a couple of scans."

6969696969


	4. Chapter 4

Getting Pepper down into the garage had been more difficult that Tony would have thought, given she'd already agreed that she

Getting Pepper down into the garage had been more difficult that Tony would have thought, given she'd already agreed that she was either going to get tests run at home or go to a hospital. True, the Pepper he'd known had always been independent, but she'd also known when to…well, listen to her boss. As far as her job was concerned, she was pretty good at taking orders.

This Pepper though…she was just giving him one reason after another to worry about her. After bullying her into sitting in front of a plate of scrambled eggs and some dry toast, he'd watched as Mick had essentially coaxed her into eating the little she'd managed to swallow before she'd pushed the food away.

She'd said she was too nauseous to risk any more until what she had eaten stayed down at least half an hour. He hadn't liked the answer, but considering how much she had been vomiting already today he decided the advantages of her eating what she'd been able to get down outweighed the risks of her not eating more.

He was going to have to pick his battles, and this was a prime example of why.

Getting her downstairs for the actual tests had been just as trying. Because of her apparent fragility and his suspicions at the cause behind it, he'd been too afraid of when to push, or how to push to do more than stand behind her as this time Mick had taken on the role of "bad cop" – though granted, it was a very _gentle_ sort of insistence. She'd turned to him once after her protestations of being too tired had failed to garner any sympathy. ("Ginny, all we really need is for you to sit still. I'm sure you can do that and sleep at the same time if you're really that tired.")

Her expression had been pleading, but he'd met her eyes and just shrugged, and felt guilty because he felt nearly as helpless as she did. Her refusal to accept help essentially crippled him.

It was seeing him so conflicted that had seemed to defeat her. She'd let out a shuddery little sigh and finally allowed herself to be led into the elevator to go downstairs. She'd sat stoically still as she'd had her blood drawn, and her blood pressure and heart rhythm recorded, then she had just laid there motionless as Jarvis had done a more thorough scan of her body.

The moment they'd run out of tests, she'd disappeared upstairs. Both men had received a look as she'd gone upstairs that'd kept them from following her. She'd clearly needed some time and space.

In light of her obvious exhaustion and her promise she'd get another glass of juice while she was up there, they'd given her what she asked for and promised to let her know when the analyses were done.

They'd looked at the cars to kill the time while Jarvis processed the information. Tony hadn't created Jarvis's medical database with pregnancy in mind, so the AI was having to gather information from around the globe to insure accuracy, and probably hacking into a few databases he wasn't supposed to in order to give the most up to date information.

Finally the printers spit out several pages. When Tony went over to check it, he found a blank piece of heavier paper lying on top. It looked like the stock that Pepper usually used to print important official things on. He wondered idly how it'd appeared down here as he gathered up the results. What'd probably happened was that he'd run out of computer paper, had raided her office, and just grabbed the first ream that'd he'd come to.

Well that or Jarvis had done it deliberately as a clear sign he was being mindful of Pepper's privacy.

"Want me to take that up to her?" Mick asks carefully from where he's examining the detailing on the hot rod. The younger man has been quite thus far, apparently lost in his own thoughts.

"No, I got it." And more importantly, even if Pepper doesn't want to share the information, he needs to see how she reacts to it. All his talk about letting her go notwithstanding, Tony _hates_ the idea of allowing Pepper to separate their lives. Even if she weren't working for him anymore, he'd need to know how she was doing, would need to see her, to talk to her. Especially now.

She's all he has and she's falling apart, and if he thinks about it too long that thought becomes terrifying, and what's humbling – besides Pepper's attempts to refuse his help – is the look of total understanding on Mick's face as he stands there with the information in hand and forces himself not to look.

"I'll just…" Tony motions towards the stairs. "Jarvis will let you know if we need you upstairs…unless you're going to scream like a girl again when he talks to you."

"That wasn't my fault. This house would unnerve anyone who's used to – oh, I don't know… Computers _not_ talking, maybe."

"You have no imagination," Tony accuses as he heads towards the stairs.

"Nah, just better things to waste it on. Good luck, man." Mick's voice is amused but also pensive. "Call if you need…but try and go easy."

"Thanks," Tony mutters under his breath as he jogs up to the first level. Not that he needs much luck to _find_ Pepper. She's exactly where he expected her to be – in her office.

This room of all the other in the house, is her sanctuary; the territory she's actually claimed instead of simply fitting herself somewhat awkwardly into. He knows it's hers because he's always felt a little as if _he's_ intruding whenever he's pushed open the door as he's doing now into the one room of the house is shaped by her unique personality.

Pepper's curled up in her five hundred dollar ergonomically correct desk chair, looking out the window at the road that curves up the hillside.

'She's always preferred that view. For all the years I've known her.' He'd offered her a room with an ocean view when she'd started, but she'd told him she'd rather be able to see any cars that might approach the house. Or leave it, he'd started to suspect after he'd grasped the way her mind worked just a little bit better. There'd been times after they'd fought what Rhodey liked to call "epic battles" over whether or not he'd be attending a particular function when he'd looked back at this window and seen her watching as he drove away.

As long as she's not paying attention, he takes a moment to glance around the room as he always does. He's always wanted to know why she kept certain things in here – a small collection of art nouveau reproduction posters, a softly ticking clock, a jar of chocolate covered somethings that always seemed to be half empty. He's startled and a little angered to find her office just as it's always been. There's not a single thing out of place that he can tell, no signs that she cared enough about any of these belongings to pack anything and take them with her.

"What does the doctor have to say?" Her controlled voice breaks into his thoughts.

"Do you mean your brother, or are you referring to Jarvis? Because Mick wasn't going to look at any of the results while you weren't there to discuss them and Jarvis doesn't have the required PhD to do more than speculate." He forces himself to stride over casually and hand her the packet of papers, cover side up.

Pepper sighs and reaches over to her desk phone. "Mick, can you join us up in my office? We can look at the results now."

"Where is it?" the voice crackles back.

"Second door down the hallway off the main living room."

"Be there in a minute," is Mick's immediate reply before the intercom goes silent and leaves them to wait in awkward silence.

Tony turns. "I'll leave you two alone then…let me know if there's anything I can help with."

Before he can turn the knob though, Pepper sighs. "There's no point, Tony. You already know I'm pregnant so you can go ahead and stay."

It's a hard thing to hear and a harder thing not to react to, if only because it somehow confirms all of his very worst fears. That this pregnancy for her is all the excuse she needs to lock them into a world where they're close and yet functionally apart.

He wants to tell her he doesn't care how she got pregnant, but he doubts she'd believe him. And he's trying to avoid over stressing her right now.

Tony watches as Pepper's eyes stray back to the road outside and he wonders if she's imagining leaving or if she's expecting someone to come to her. He wants to ask her about "him." About whoever it is who fathered her child. He needs to know if it's someone she knows or someone random off the street.

He needs to know how involved the father is going to be in the child's life, and in hers by extension. But he doesn't know how to ask and is pretty sure she wouldn't answer him right now even if he did find the words. Unfortunately he also realizes what she doesn't at present – namely that they're going to _have_ to talk about it at some point, quite possibly very soon.

Because until he gets answers he can believe about the likely bruises that Jarvis' earlier observations detected, he's not sure he's going to be able to handle having_ any_ other male near her other than Mick, Happy or Rhodey. Because he's still too frustrated and, if he's honest about it, too disbelieving and angry.

His horror at the idea she might have been raped hasn't faded so much as been subsumed under Mick's more… complex possibilities.

He doesn't; say any of that though, instead he settles for asking something more banal. "So why did you choose these particular posters?" He points at the ones he was looking at when he first entered, telling himself it's a place to start. He's coming to realize how little he knows her, and this is a first step toward changing that.

Pepper turns from the window and blinks at him owlishly. "What?" She absently scratches her head and then realizes he's commenting on her décor. She shrugs a little. "Why do you suddenly care enough to ask?"

'Because I'm beginning to realize I can't take anything for granted.' He shrugs. "You've got even stronger opinions on art than I do, Pepper, and we both know that. I once told you that you could hang anything you wanted in here, including pieces from my family's private art collection. I know there are several pieces in storage you genuinely love to look at, and yet instead of using them you went out and bought these with your own money specifically for your office…" His voice isn't judgmental or condemning, just curious...it's an invitation to speak about what should hopefully be non-threatening and interesting to both of them.

"The art nouveau movement was about making even everyday things beautiful," she replies, just a little bit guarded. "Even the most utilitarian things. It's a concept I wanted to always remember. There's a lot of…excess in the world, it's nice to remember that something doesn't have to be lavish to still be beautiful."

He blinks a little. "I suppose I never thought of it that way." He looks at the prints, "I like the way they use curving lives though, it's very soothing to the eye. It blends well with the over all feel of the house." She shrugs a little at that and he shifts on his feet, "So… are there any modern artists are advancing this style these days, or has the school of thought already reached its peak?"

Pepper shrugs. "I don't know. It's too easy to copy a style without caring about its origins." Her head tilts a little and she meets his eyes for the first time since they'd gone downstairs. Her lips quirk a little. "I would have thought the style would have caught your eye before. Lots of mostly naked women in them after all, even if they don't exactly fit today's standard of what constitutes beautiful..."

He raises a brow. "Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, Potts. I like both modern and classic work a lot. And the classics a little better, if I'm totally honest. There's a reason they've endured for so many hundreds of years while the fads come and go."

He doesn't tell her he's always seen her as a classic example of how the old ways never fail, but he does wonder if she actually thinks her clothes and hairstyles are a deterrents to his attention rather then a temptation to look more closely at the person beneath them.

"Nouveau artists always made their women so soft," she says in a voice barely above a whisper. "Even the looks on their faces make them seem gentle. Mothering." Her tone implies...envy.

She wishes sometimes she had had that kind of mother herself. Who wiped noses and rocked babies and bandaged skinned knees.

Perhaps, she acknowledged, she liked art best that showed what she wanted, or wanted secretly to be.

Tony of course, doesn't know what she's thinking. Instead he chuckles – maybe thinking of the women in his own life. "They didn't know my mother then. She had a big heart and a gentle touch, yes, but she could probably have strong armed _Houdini_ if she put her mind to it."

He wonders what the comment says about Pepper's own view of womanhood though, or about the women she'd known at different stages in her life.

He makes a mental side note to try and ask Mick a little later about Pepper's own mother, since his earlier discussion with her had left him well aware that Pepper was uncomfortable talking about her childhood.

Then he changes the subject again, from the prints to the jar of candy on her desk.

"You are aware, are you not, Ms Potts, that there's a mandatory tariff for all chocolate brought into this house." He lifts the jar up and unscrews the lid, popping one or two of the chocolate coated morsels in his mouth.

She smiles a little as his eyes widen in surprise. "Chocolate covered espresso beans," she tells him calmly. "There's a reason I've kept them hidden from you. I wanted to make sure there were some left for me." She holds out a hand, but he refuses to give back the bottle.

"Chocolate and caffeine in one easy package. Hiding these, Pepper, may be your one act unforgivable betrayal. Let nothing stand between a man and his daily dose of caffeine, after all."

"Tony the last thing you need is_ another_ vice." The voice is chiding and earns her a amused little chuckle.

Tony smirks, "Oh come on, Potts, you know as well as I do that I've been a very, very good boy as of late. This would have meant less wear and tear on that express machine in the basement. What's the downside of that?"

"No, Stark, what it would have meant is that you would have ended up having chocolate covered espresso beans with your mochas. And the permanent headrush would have driven me crazy…"

Mick's voice suddenly sounds from the doorway. "Well if that's the case, I'll just take that jar off of_ both_ of your hands since one of you is obviously an addict, and the other is going to need to watch their sugar and caffeine consumption for at least the next seven months."

"You just don't want to buy your own," Pepper murmurs as she swings the chair around a little.

Mick only advances on Tony, whose hands tighten around the jar as he takes a step back.

"Finders Keepers, Andrews." Mick only raises an eyebrow. "And for the record, you're _not_ intimidating just because some freak act of genetics made you several feet taller than me."

"Don't be silly, Stark, at best I'm taller than you by maybe five inches." The younger reaches out a hand. "We can do this the hard way, Anthony, or we can do this easy."

"If he keeps those, at least you'll know he didn't ask Happy to go buy him more," Pepper points out as she watches the men do their cat and mouse routine. "And Mick? Can you please stop flirting with Tony? At least while I'm in the room? It's kinda weird to sit here and watch you."

"Flirting?!" both men say simultaneously, Mick in disbelief and Tony in shock. They take gigantic steps back away from one another, but not before Mick manages to snatch the jar away from Tony.

"One: I am not flirting. I am procuring caffeine. Two, for the record he is not even my _type_, Ginny," Mick says looking both horrified and amusingly insulted.

"Excuse me?!" Now it's Tony's turn. "And what in heck are you implying is supposed to be the matter with me?"

"You're too pretty to be my type, Stark," is Mick's candid reply.

"What's wrong, little brother? Can't take the competition of someone having better hair?" Pepper asks, and it sounds like the kind of thing a sister would say. It sounds...normal.

"I like my men more butch...it sort of evens things out. Besides, shave off this babyface's goatee and he looks what...sixteen?"

"I do not!" is the billionaire's reply. "And I am ending this conversation now before it becomes any more surreal."

"Glad to hear it," Mick says in reply. "Because I'm spoken for at the moment anyway."

"You are?" Pepper looks confused. "Since when?"

It's Mick's turn to start backpedaling. "Never mind...it's not particularly important at the moment. So what'cha need?" The younger man unscrews the lid and dumps a handful of candy into his hand before tossing the entire palmful into his mouth.

Pepper nods to the small stack of papers on her desk, her face growing a little distant again. "Unless Jarvis thought to translate that into English, Mick, then neither Tony nor I know what any of it means. You're the one with the medical doctorate."

Mick picks up the stack and starts flipping through the pages. "Okay...your heart rate is still way too elevated. Though judging by your blood pressure I'm guessing as a result of severe dehydration. Congratulations sis, you're about to earn a one way ticket to a bag of intravenous fluid and a prescription for nausea ASAP."

"Is that all?" Pepper asks in relief. That's not so bad, that's tolerable actually.

Mick turns the page and blinks at the result. "Tony, do you have a first aid kit here in the house that has insulin?"

"What? Why?" Tony doesn't miss the way Pepper's hands curl around the arms of her chair. Then his eyes narrow. "She has what you were talking about early doesn't she? Gestational diabetes."

"I'm betting so, yes. Your blood sugar level is 237 right now, sweetie."

"What's normal?" Pepper and Tony both ask simultaneously.

"Between 90 and 160." Mick stands to his feet. "This explains a ton. Weight loss is a classic sign of the condition untreated. What's worse, your body's trying to get more fluids, but you're puking them up so fast they're doing almost no good." He looks at Pepper, "It's no wonder you're so tired and frazzled right now. We need to get you some insulin and a meter to regularly check your sugars."

Mick looks at Tony. "In the meantime, if you have a proper first aid case here, I would really prefer to get some insulin in her _now. _There are other tests they can use to confirm later at the hospital."

"Jarvis, do we have insulin in the house?" Because of all the things Tony's prepared for, diabetic shock has never been one of them until now.

"Yes, sir. One of the orders for medical supplies that Ms. Potts put in to supplement your own list contains a packet that has a small supply of insulin."

"Trauma level first aid kit," Pepper explains at her brother's confused look. "When he comes in after some missions he's pretty messed up...I didn't want to take chances."

"Missions?" Mick's face is a literal picture of confusion.

Pepper stares at Mick in amazement. 'Does he just never watch television?' But that's ridiculous, because her brother does follow the newspaper. Her eyes narrow a little… "Okay, Mick, where exactly did you fly in from anyway?"

"Savannah," Mick replies defensively.

Pepper's not buying that. "And how long had you been in Savannah?"

Michael shrugs. "About...two days, give or take."

Pepper groans and rests her head on her desk. "Where were you before that, Mick? The _moon_?"

"No..." Mick rubs the back of neck. "Somewhere within six hundred miles of the Great Britain area. Working on a…project."

"They don't have newspapers in Europe?" Tony asks a little bit tartly.

Mick meanwhile is studying his sister's confused face. "Ginny, you know sometimes it's like another world entirely. I was out of contact with everyone but a few contacts for almost _nine months_. You know how it is in the family."

Something about their dialogue finally clues Tony in to the fact that they're not talking about Europe.

Pepper glares at her brother, than sighs. "My boss is a superhero," she snaps out in a rather sarcastic voice. "Except instead of spandex tights he goes for a personal tank."

"Family?" Tony interjects after a moment.

"My late father was CIA, Tony. Mick, as it happens, decided to follow in his footsteps."

"Virginia Potts!" Her brother gapes in shock. "Okay I know that it's been more than a decade since you were in the Company yourself, but I damn well know you understand the concept of operational security!'

Pepper rolls her eyes, "Oh get off it, Mick. I'm talking generalities, not specifics. Besides you're looking at the guy who designed weapons for the entire Department of Defense for fifteen plus years. I guarantee you that his security clearance is – minimally speaking - equal to yours."

"Wait, wait, wait." Tony's head hurts. "You were in the CIA, Pepper?" There's something about his voice that makes Pepper look away from Mick. He sounds almost...sick. His face is actually a little gray and his forehead is knotted as he just _looks _at her.

Then his eyes just as abruptly cloud and drop to the floor.

"Does it matter?" Mick asks a little bit carefully, suddenly aware of a massive elevation of tension in the room.

"No," is Tony's brusque answer, though he suddenly refuses to meet either one of their eyes.

Pepper gets the feeling that if he'd had them on his person right now, Tony stark would be putting on his sunglasses. "I...I did two summer internships when I was a teenager. And I joined the research division for a year when I was fresh out of college. There were...personality conflicts though, and so I chose to resign."

"Not that they haven't invited her back a thousand times since," Mick interjects. "But she's found a niche out here in the real world that seems to fit her better. For which I'm relieved. Because field work would have made you insane."

She shrugs and looks away. "We all go insane eventually. At least a little." To Tony she just says, "Even the CIA needs people who know how to file, Tony. And since they're a branch of the government in particular, they _especially_ need people who know how to file."

"Don't underestimate yourself, sis. You would have made agent status if you hadn't lost your temper and clobbered the acting supervisor. Not that the whole entire office didn't want you to buy you a drink after you did so. He was an arrogant, manipulative _ass_."

Normally Pepper starts protesting at this point in the story, but she's too uncomfortable to. Tony's still... She doesn't know what he is, but he's making her feel like she'd done something wrong. Or something _dirty._

She doesn't understand why either. And it's enough to make her throat close up a little.

"Maybe we should go hook up that IV," she tells Mick softly. "I'm starting to feel kinda sick again." She hopes Mick will understand the need to change the subject.

"I'll get the first aid kit," Tony murmurs softly. He rises to his feet, finally meeting her eyes once he does so.

She can still see the concern there, for her health and her mental wellbeing, but she's literally _shocked_ at the shadows that have invaded his eyes.

"I'll be right back," Tony says to no one in general, and then he turns and walks out the door. Only those who know his body language well can probably see how uneasy he still is at present.

Mick stays there on the edge of the desk, watching his sister. "Okay that was...strange. Has he got issues with the company?" Because the billionaire's reaction to both of them had been carefully controlled, but still unmistakable to a trained profiler...

Pepper blinks in confusion, still not understanding. "None that I knew of. We don't deal with them directly. Stark Industries has always dealt with the military branch of the DoD. Pentagon types. There's a few agents on the payroll, of course... With the technology at stake, any company like ours would."

"Yeah well he went from totally open to totally closed in the space of a few seconds...not exactly a good sign if you ask me. Especially if you consider who was director in this part of the country the last twenty years."

"I don't know who was in charge," she reminds him. "Once I left, I didn't care."

"That's right...and you left before Kendricks got booted from his control of the west coast office." Mick winces. "He was...let's just say his tactics left a lot to be desired. It's only rumors, for the most part, but from what I've been able to verify from a few people actually involved, he actually had some of his agents deliberately climbing into the _beds _of the people they were monitoring..."

Brother and sister come to the same conclusion at the same time. Pepper just starts laughing helplessly. "Oh god...we are both just _so_ fucked up." She'd expected Tony to freak out over her pregnancy, but certainly not over something like _this_…

"Look on the bright side Potts, unless you all but took it up the ass for your country, you're still doing a fair bit better than me in terms of crap you're still living with." Tony's voice is dry as he suddenly sets the first aid kit down behind her.

"Nothing quite that noble, I'm afraid," she murmurs as she leans away from him.

He pops the kit open then passes it over to Mick wordlessly, before shrugging a little bit ironically. "We all make choices we regret, Potts. You learn to live with it." He looks at Mick. "Is this all you're going to need?"

"Duck."

The warning comes a little too late. Pepper blows past Tony so quickly that he's knocked off balance. She's practically out the door before he can even process what just happened.

It takes him a moment to realize she's running not puking, and when the knowledge hit's he's halfway down the hall before he even realizes that he's on his feet.

He catches her around the arm before she can close herself off in a room. Her initial response is to spin around, eyes wide in a bone white face. She wrenches her arm in his grasp in a move he knows is probably going to leave a bruise before she realizes who's caught her, and by that time he's let her go rather than risk hurting her or seeing her hurt herself.

Tony raises his hands in front of him to show that he's not going to do it again. There's a lot he would promise never to do again if it'd make her stop looking around for escape even though all she has to do is turn around and keep walking away.

"It's okay, Pepper," he whispers. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did or said, I'm sorry."

"Don't." She glances over her shoulder and starts edging away. He… Tony's the one who LIVES with things. Tony's the one who looks at his past and maybe regrets some of the things that happened and some of the things that he did, but who ultimately let them go in favor of whatever was going to happen next. SHE though, she hasn't learned to live with anything. She's run from everything that's ever hurt her even if she's hurt others in the process. Even Mick, who's possibly the best thing that's ever happened to her, has be hurt by her indiscriminate fear. And now it's Tony who's being hurt by her and her inability to say anything meaningful or explain anything adequately or even just acknowledge out loud that she is TERRIFIED by her future.

And she doesn't know how to stop. Because that means moving forward. Damnit, one of the attractions of leaving without saying goodbye was that she'd be able to keep him frozen in her mind the way she wanted to remember him.

"You're don't have to apologize, Mr. Stark. Of the two of us, you're the only one who doesn't have to apologize."

"Pepper, do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? How long have you worked here? How long have you known me? What in my life make me stupid enough to try and judge or condemn anyone's decisions?"

"I…" Her brain is only processing part of what he's saying.

He continues, almost desperate. "I mean, seriously Pepper...look at my history. Do you think for a moment that I don't understand _exactly_ what it's like to be fucked over – either by yourself or by others?"

He doesn't think she's really listening to him. "You don't have to apologize to me," is her whispered reply again before she hurries to the room he'd given her and closes the door behind her.

He smacks his fist against the wall once and curses as the sheetrock actually buckles in response.

"If you wanted to find a way to get her to the ER there were easier ways than breaking your hand." Mick's voice is rough and irritated as he spins Tony around and holds his hand up. "If you can move your fingers, I'll give the espresso beans back."

Tony tries, but without any real success. The joints are already swelling and one of them is oddly bent. He sighs in disgust. "Look, get in there and give her the damn insulin. I'm going to drive myself to the ER."

"It might be better for her to go now as well. Somehow I'm doubting she'll be content to stay if you _have_ to go. Besides the insulin I give her now is a temporary solution at best. She'll need more tests to get a monitor and a prescription."

Before Mick can say any more Pepper throws back open the closed bedroom door. Her eyes dart between Mick and Tony, finally settling on her brother. "What's going on?"

"Nothing to be concerned about," Tony tells her calmly. "Look, your brother is right...let him give you the shot and then you should really go to the hospital."

Mick snorts aloud. "She's not the only one who needs a doctor, Stark." He turns Tony's injured hand so that it's completely in view.

"Oh my god," Pepper whispers. "Tony, what did you _do_?"

"Played chicken with the wall. The sheetrock won."

Mick snorts at that. "That's one way of putting it. This finger is broken, hotshot. Badly enough there's a risk of nerve damage, probably."

"You hit the...?" Pepper finally sees the hole in the wall, stares at it a moment, a little dumbly. After a few seconds she seems to chill, becoming cold instead of merely still. Her eyes slowly move from the hole in the wall to the hand Mick's still holding up as evidence, and then on to meet Tony's gaze.

He swallows hard. She's _pissed_.

"We'll take my car," she tells Mick softly. "As soon as Tony tells us where my keys are."

"Lock box in the garage where I keep all the others." He turns toward the kitchen. "I'm going to get some ice for my hand, and take a pit stop." The adrenaline is starting to wear off and he's starting to feel shaky as the pain increases.

"I'll get the ice. If you're not out in five minutes, I'm going to send Mick in to help you."

"I'll be fine. Mick, go with her." Then he steps into the bathroom and shoves the door shut behind him.

"And for God's sake Pepper, take your damn insulin!"

At the hospital Pepper fills out Tony's medical information while Mick fills out hers. She's still stiff with fury, though most of it is because she considers Tony to be a complete _idiot_. She's not worth this kind of display, and certainly not worth the damage to his hand.

Tony needed his hands. They were capable of creating masterpieces, and moreover, without being able to use them he would go mad with boredom. More importantly, he would driver her mad with his boredom. And if there's actually permanent damage…

She swallows hard as she finishes filling out the last page. 'He's going to be driving someone else nuts soon,' she tells herself.

"You might want to breathe deep a little there, Sis. You have steam literally pouring out of your ears." Mick's voice is calm as he chews on the end of his pen.

In that moment Pepper's glad of two things in particular: that Tony's in x-ray, and that his name is recognizable enough to have gotten them both of them into private triage rooms almost immediately on their arrival.

"I'm working for an imbecile," she informs her brother coldly. Tony had insisted that Mick stay with her while he went down to x-ray. She and Mick meanwhile were waiting for another round of lab tests to come back.

"He's not the first guy to have broken his hand punching a wall, Pepper." Mick's chews his lip.

"His hands are his _livelihood_. What in hell was he _thinking_?!"

"Right now? That the woman he's in love with is hurting and he's pretty much helpless." Her brother doesn't look at her as he says the words, but he does pause for a moment before he goes back to his writing. "Hey - what's the last four of your social, Gin? I know you've told me this before but I keep on forgetting."

"4786. What do you mean Tony's in love with me?" Pepper tries not to start hyperventilating, but it's hard. "Mick, I think you're probably seeing things..."

"Yeah, good luck with that." Mick keeps on filling out paperwork, pausing a moment to flip the form over. "Are you taking any medications that I should know about...?"

"Michael..." Her words are a little desperate. "Tony Stark doesn't fall in love with _anyone_."

"Yes, because he's nothing but a heartless, selfish bastard who makes his living off the suffering of others." Mick puts the cap back on his pen. "Okay, I'm done here…but you better double check the information for me."

"Why would you even think he's in love with me anyway?" she asks as she takes the clip board from him with a hand that trembles a little. "And stop calling him names. If you really cared about his reputation, you wouldn't be sleeping under his roof."

"Why do I think he loves you? Oh I don't know, Virginia. Maybe because he refused to put you down in the limo because you started whimpering every single time he tried. Maybe because he's so worried for you right now he's giving himself an ulcer trying to pretend everything is all right."

"He doesn't love me," Pepper whispers to them both as she stares down at what's quickly becoming gibberish. "And even if he does it really doesn't matter. I'm leaving."

"Last I checked, Pepper, love doesn't give a fuck for distance." Mick studies her carefully though hooded eyes. "I have some personal experience on the subject here, and I can pretty much assure you leaving won't accomplish much good. You'll be apart and miserable, but not a bit less in love."

"I never said that I love him, Mick." Pepper very carefully turns a four into a nine in her work address.

"If you didn't, Virginia, there'd be no point in running." Mick stretches his hands above his head with a yawn. "After all, why run from a friend who's obviously dying to offer as much sympathy and support than you can possibly take?"

"Because it's not right to accept it," is her firm reply.

"Why? Because he doesn't think you deserve forgiveness, or because you don't?"

Pepper starts breathing hard but doesn't answer. There's nothing she can possibly say in response.

Mick sighs a little, takes both clipboards from her hands, sets them down on the low table and looks at her straight on. "Look, I know that you have always had personal issues with mercy versus justice. Hell, given your personal history I can even accept _why_ you feel the way you do about the subject." Mick leans a little forward, "But you're not just fucking up yourself up by denying him a chance to forgive you, anymore. You're breaking him as well and you're not even noticing. And I'm sorry, Ginny, but no matter how I look at it, I can't see any justice in that."

"What makes you think I'm hurting him?" It's a desperate denial that she knows he's about to burn through like a flame through thin paper.

Mick sighs and grants no mercy. "Because right now he's pretty much convinced that you were either raped or at the very least assaulted and have decided to run because you can't or won't tell him..." Mick shakes his head. "You're giving him crap for putting his hand through the wall, but Ginny, I'd be tempted to do a hell of a lot worse than that if I were in his position."

What blood that had been in Pepper's face drains out and her fingers tighten convulsively around the pen, but she doesn't say anything.

Mick's voice, which up until now has been almost brusque becomes suddenly unbearably gentle. "Look, I'm not saying your life isn't shitty right now, Pepper. But to be frank, you might see it improve if you start looking at something beyond your own pain and God-damned self loathing occasionally."

He reaches out and takes the pen and then squeezes her hand.

"I'll just keep hurting him if I stay," she finally blurts out. It's nearly three minutes later and she's finally strong enough for words. "I'm too screwed up to _do this, _Mick. We've been pretending for years, but I can't do this for real."

"You can't do what?" Mick asks her gently, though Pepper suspects he's already formed his own conclusions.

"Be anyone's lover," she whispers. "When there were women it was different. They took care of the sex part. Tony's just so physical…he deserves…and I _can't_."

Or maybe she can, but only half way. Only half drunk and constantly, subtly afraid. All it will take is her freaking out once and she'll be so humiliated she won't be able to look at or speak to him ever again.

"Ginny..." Mick's voice is pained and sad. It's the voice of a man who knows more than they've ever managed to really talk about. "I get that it sucks, but don't you think that if you're going to destroy both of your lives this way than he at least deserves a chance to know the truth and make his own decisions accordingly?"

Mick's having a hard time finding the line between too much and not enough. He knows that she's sick and vulnerable, but he also knows she's being incredibly short sighted, and her fear is making her selfish and frankly blind

Pepper shakes her head. "He'll make the wrong decision. He'll choose me."

'Which scares you to death.' "And since when has it been your right to live his life for him, Ginny? Because that sounds like you're trying to play God."

"I don't want to hurt him. I've already hurt him too much. Why would I put myself in a position where I would hurt him more?" Pepper brushes away the tears forming in her eyes. "I was supposed to be gone by now, Mick. He wasn't supposed to be worried." She hadn't quite figured out how she was going to keep him from worrying at all, but she'd thought she could figure out some way to at least accept her absence.

Mick laughs at that hoarsely. "I've known him less than a day Pepper, and even I don't believe he would have been anything but furious, crushed and frantic."

"I was going to leave a note," she says a little defensively.

"And would that have been enough for you if you'd been in his place? If he just disappeared one day without any warning?"

The words are like a smack upside the bed. Because she knows exactly what him disappearing into the middle of nowhere feels like. And at least when he'd been in Afghanistan she'd been able to reassure herself he'd be fighting his way back home. She hadn't left Tony even that much hope.

"But what other options do I have?" she asks softly. "What if staying causes more pain than leaving?"

"Has it for you? I mean how many years have you known him?"

"Things have changed now. I...I was so stupid, Mick." Mick face is attentive, but he doesn't say anything. Perhaps he's learned over the years that interrupting or leading her will only lock her up. However, there's some things she can't even tell her brother. At least not directly. So she settles for, "I wanted to stop loving him. I thought I could make myself stop."

For a moment Mick's face is ...sympathetic. As if he understands exactly what she means. "Did it work?" he asks simply?

She laughs a little wildly as she shakes her head. "Oh god, he's going to _kill me_ when he finds out what I've done."

"Kill you for what?" Mick asks her softly. Suspecting that in a moment he'll at least have enough information to relieve some of Tony's torment.

And some of his own, if Mick is completely honest.

"I cheated on him, Michael."

Mick raises an eyebrow. "Pepper, the two of you aren't a couple yet. How can you cheat on someone you haven't made any promises to?"

"You're 'taken,'" she throws back at him. "Why don't you tell me?"

"I haven't slept with anyone else since I figured it out. Which is impressive because the person in question actually decided I need to get laid and bought me a hooker."

"I did sleep with someone. Purposely. To try and force it out of my system."

"Then you didn't betray him, you betrayed yourself." Mick draws a breath..."Hell even if you two had made an agreement did you hear a _thing_ he said when he followed you out into the hall?!"

Mick's voice changes in an almost eerie imitation. "How long have you known me? What in my life make me stupid enough to try and judge or condemn anyone else? Do you think for a moment I don't understand what it's like to be fucked over – by yourself or by others?"

He shakes his head. "No offense, Pepper, but that doesn't sound like the type of person who's bearing a grudge. That sounds like a person who desperately wants to forgive you because if he can't, he'll never be allowed to forgive himself."

Pepper groans. "He'll kill me for getting myself hurt."

"He probably wants to yes. I'm not far behind," her younger brother informs her plainly.

Pepper shudders and falls silent, her finger brushing over her own set of insurance forms.

"The question to be answered here is if you agree that he's got any _right_ to be angry. And judging from this conversation thus far, I'm getting the impression that you do." Mick shrugs his shoulders. "By my estimation that means you're _already_ lovers."

When she does protest Mick tilts his head. "If that's the case you've only really got two things left to figure out, what you owe yourself in penance, and what you owe him in apology. And for the record, if you want to be fair, it's not you who gets to decide the latter. The guilty can't pick their own sentence, Ginny. That's the victim's job."

"But then I'll have to _tell _him." Which is at the crux of all her panic. She doesn't think that she can.

"That you had sex with someone else?" Mick looks fairly amused. "Somehow I think he's already figured that out, Ginny."

"I doubt he'll even care about that part," she whispers, feeling faintly sick to her stomach. "But he'll insist on knowing everything else."

"And you don't think he's earned it? He isn't entitled to the truth? Confession is the necessary first step to restitution, sweetie. It's the only way you wipe the blood off of your hands. Because it's there, even if it's metaphorical at best."

Mick shakes his head. "Come on Sis, this is basic Catechism."

"I hated going to confession," she admits without regret. "I stopped going the moment I turned eighteen

"Why? Was it painful because it was hard, or because it didn't help?" Mick shrugs. "Look I can't force you to do anything, Pepper. But I can tell you this: running doesn't really remove any pain. Because every where you go, you care yourself with you."

'He makes it sound so simple – and yet not simple at all.' This all required so much strength, and right now she's absolutely exhausted. "I'll think about it," is the most honest thing she can make herself say.

Because she will think about it. She'll probably think of nothing else.

"That's all I can ask." Mick shakes his head. "Now can we move on, preferably to me getting drunk? Because I haven't got that preachy since I was twelve, and as you know I was only an alter boy in the first place on my mum's threat of death."

Pepper snorts. "Who are you trying to kid, Mick? We both know that you liked the robes."

"I liked Johnny McIntyre the other altar boy...though thankfully he never found out." Mick sighs. "For that matter, thank God that Mum has remained blissfully ignorant."

"She still doesn't know? Or she just doesn't know about _that_?"

"I've never directly brought the subject up...though I haven't exactly tried to hide it either." He shrugs, "Let's face it Ginny, we're not the type exactly for family reunions. I see Mum maybe once a year and call on her birthday and Mother's Day. That's pretty much it. Other than that, well I suppose I look too much like Dad. She's content to leave me alone."

Pepper shakes her head. "Between us we had three parents. Why did they all kinda suck?"

"Because your mom was a junkie and my mum could never forgive our dad for making her guilty of putting a child through such hell?" Mick's voice is candid, though still equally somber.

Pepper blinks a little. "That's the reason they didn't talk?" She'd always thought that Mick's mother was unable to accept her husband's infidelity, of which she'd been a physical representation.

She'd never though their marriage might have ended in all but name essentially for her sake.

Before Mick can reply though, there's a knock at the door. "Ms Potts your test results are all back."

Pepper mouths "later" to her brother, and motions the doctor inside.


	5. Chapter 5

They'd ended up staying at the hospital overnight, which had garnered its fair share of media interest. Luckily the hospitals in the LA area were used to dealing with the confidentiality of famous patients – and well aware of what happened when that confidentiality was broken. All the media knew was that Tony Stark had been checked in along with two members of his retinue. And the short, grainy video clip of them leaving the hospital didn't provide any more information.

Pepper was just glad that her name had stayed out of it all, though it was only a matter of time until her pregnancy began to show. And when that happened, the rumors that the baby was his were going to start flying thick and furious. She'd always known that. It was one of the reasons she'd been so determined to leave. He didn't deserve to go through that kind of scrutiny and she was terrified of the kind of information that the scrutiny on _her_ history would uncover. There were things in her past that she would prefer remain buried there.

Her past seemed very distant right now, though. They hadn't even been home for three hours yet and Tony was acting strangely. He'd set his meds down on the counter and headed into his bedroom. He hadn't wandered out once to complain or fidget or try and sneak down in the basement to work.

He'd been…well _passive_ is the only word she could think of. It wasn't Tony Stark. It was, frankly, getting creepy. The world felt heavy and choked, like there was some threat hanging in the air.

The weather outside unfortunately, only lent itself to her likely paranoia. It was grey and threatening rain, and the ocean outside the windows was sullen and the waves seemed to be capped with more white than usual. It was unusual weather for southern California – even if it was December - and the fact only ratcheted up her tension levels.

When Mick finally came into the living room to disrupt her mandated "quiet time" she was almost desperate for the company. She took the mug of tea he offered her and turned towards him eagerly, but he didn't meet her eyes. He was watching the ocean and his face was troubled.

"What's wrong? Did the state of Tony's fridge shock you that badly?" she tries to tease.

This gets a little smile out of her brother. "No. Though I guess I ought to mention that I'm going to be borrowing your car to hit up the closest grocery store. I need plenty on hand to feed you up. And it's pretty slim pickings right now."

"You're leaving?" Pepper heard the quiet desperation in her own voice. The thought of _going_ somewhere called to her, but she didn't know if she _should_ leave while Tony was caught up in whatever mood he was in.

"Yeah. I need to if I want to make those Hawaiian chicken skewers you love so much. Besides, I'm not in love with the glucometer they gave you at the hospital. I'm sure I can find a better one if there's a pharmacy in the area."

He finally looks down at her and gives _her_ a smile. The one she'd grown used to over years of being caught up in situations where neither of them really know what to do. He sits down on the edge of the table and braces his elbows on his knees. "Besides, I want to give you some time alone with Tony. You've got to go talk to him, Pepper. I think the things you said to him yesterday have really settled in."

"Mick, I..." She sighs. "I'm not sure I'm ready to talk to anyone yet. You gave me a ton to think about yesterday too, and I'm still working on the processing. Besides," she frowns at the bottle on the table. "If I talk to him at all right now it should be to try and coax him into taking his medicine." Because she'd had broken bones herself, and right now she's guessing he's in considerable pain.

Mick shrugs. "Then start there, Ginny. Look, you know I love you, but I wasn't really offering you a choice here. This has to be done for both of your sakes."

She sighs. "Are you sure this is the right way to do this, though? I'm not saying we don't need to talk, but it might be wise to have a mediator handy..." She's also not sure whether it's not a good idea to have Mick take all the car keys and the key to the liquor cabinet with him. Because the outcome of this could get pretty nasty.

And she also knows neither of them is in the position where alcohol or driving is a remotely acceptable escape option.

"If either of you _used _me as a mediator, then I would stay. But you're both using me as an excuse not to talk to the other." Mick reaches for her hands. "Before I came into your office yesterday, Ginny, you were _talking_ to each other, and it wasn't the end of the world."

"Before you came to the office yesterday he hadn't put his hand through a wall...and there wasn't this whole nightmare CIA thing hanging over our heads..." She rubs her brow. "If what we think happened really did, Mick, then it had to have occurred when he was young...possibly not even _legal _if you take my meaning."

The idea that he could have been used or manipulated that way makes her sick.

Mick tilts his head. "I'm not sure the company would have let Kendrick of with just early retirement if that were the case, Pepper. I mean that would have been a felony – and abuse of an irreplaceable asset…"

'He's a person, not an asset.' "What makes you think Tony gave them a _choice_? I can see him orchestrating his own cover-up if he felt humiliated enough." Pepper rubs her forehead. "Oh God, I really need to have a talk with Happy."

"Happy? The driver?" Mick looks confused. "He's been around longer than you?"

Pepper barely manages not to laugh. "Yes. And he works for the same people you do. Did you really think the CIA would let anyone else take care of the security for one of the most valuable minds in the country?"

Mick blinks. "Stark's got a sleeper bodyguard in his organization?"

Pepper shrugs. "Only kind of...Happy's mostly retired, but he keeps an eye on Tony for them...and in return other people are supposed to stay away."

"I'm guessing Tony doesn't know." Mick says this cautiously.

"You're right Tony doesn't know," Pepper says seriously. "I didn't know about his thing with the CIA, but I do know his views on being 'on a leash,' as he puts it. So we're not going to tell him about it either."

Mick's forehead crinkles. "Ginny, that decision could _seriously _backfire. Do you really want to risk that he'll find out on his own that you've continued lying to him?" Mick shrugs his shoulders. "No offense, but if it were me I'd probably respond to that kind of betrayal by fucking moving out of country."

Pepper shrugs. "It's unlikely to come to that if he finds out."

Mick shrugs his shoulders. "You've known him longer than I have. It's just something to think about." He smiles a little. "Well at least you have several fairly decent topics to begin a conversation...just remember he doesn't know that I've told you about his suspicions. And they're going to keep coloring everything thing he says and does until that changes."

Pepper makes a face and leans back against the couch but doesn't say anything. The night in question is still enough to make her feel sick if she thinks about it for too long. She won't go so far as to say she was raped...but she doesn't know _what _to say about what happened and that scares her almost as much.

"I'll figure something out," she mumbles as Mick just sits there and looks at her expectantly.

"We're going to have to discuss it at some point too," her brother warns her candidly. "Though I'm not going to force that on you right now." He kisses her forehead and then goes to drive her car from the garage. She watches him leave through one of the windows, trying not to feel suddenly a terribly alone.

Pepper stays where she is long enough to finish her tea. As much as she hates, well, pretty much everything about her life right now, she can also admit that going to the hospital had been for the best. She's calmer now, actually in control of her brain instead of being locked in a mind that she'd felt as if she couldn't influence at all. Her world is still falling to pieces around her, but she feels as if she actually can cope with it now. Or at least face the end of it with grace instead of terror.

Once the tea is gone though, she has no more reasons to procrastinate, and getting to her a feet is a much scarier process than she'd anticipated. Walking down the hall to Tony's bedroom is enough to make her stomach knot up and standing outside the door she can feel dread weighing down her shoulders.

Tony is going to want to talk. And he may even be upset enough with her to see all her excuses as the bullshit they are. The prospect of being honest is elating and devastating at the same time.

She's been keeping so many secrets for so long she's not sure she remembers how to do anything else. Unfortunately that's likely to infuriate a man Pepper's begun to realize reads her very, very accurately.

A man who is in pain and probably exhausted on multiple levels.

'Well, that at least I can hopefully change.' She reaches for the bottle of Vicodin and goes to fill a glass with some more apple juice. She may have lost a great deal of footing lately, and her perspective on too many things, but her ability to lock horns with Tony Stark for his greater good is something she's beginning to realize will probably never change. Actually, if they can focus on that and keep the conversation of her altogether, that won't be so bad...

'Yeah right,' she tells herself softly as she knocks on Tony's door and waits for an answer.

"Enter," comes a quiet voice.

She pushes the door open and steps inside. Tony is sitting on the bed with his sling to one side and his legs folded in front of him. He's propped himself up against the pillows and has circuit board components all around him. His face is focused, though from the pallor of his skin, it's as likely from pain as concentration.

"Mr. Stark?" He ignores her so completely that Pepper knows she has his full attention, and his disapproval. "Tony," she tries again after a moment.

That gets him to raise his head in acknowledgement. "What can I do for you, Pepper?"

"You haven't taken anything for the pain since we were at the hospital." She holds up the prescription. "Don't you think it's time for some more?"

"If I'm going to get high, Pepper, I'd prefer to be in good enough health to enjoy it," Tony informs her dryly. "Besides, narcotics make me nauseous. I'd just as soon live with a little discomfort."

Pepper shifts her weight so that she's actually inside the room instead of standing in the doorway. "A little discomfort? Is that why you're hiding in your room?"

Because that is what he's doing. Tony Stark has actually been reduced to locking himself away in his own mansion.

Tony doesn't look up. "I'm grumpy, Pepper. It happens occasionally. Besides you're the one who's repeatedly said that you can use a little space." He picks up the component on the bed in front of him, inspecting it just a little too carefully. "So how are _you_ feeling? A little more normal now that your body's no longer trying to deep fry your brain?"

"A little," she offers. "Enough to realize that when you're grumpy, Tony, you retreat to your garage."

Tony rolls his eyes. "If I'd tried to do that right now, you or your brother would have come down and lectured me about taking it easy or not starting any fires. I can do this just as well and stay quiet enough not to have to endure a lecture about over taxing my body." He puts the component down and looks at her directly. "Pepper, have you typed up your resignation letter yet? Because we should probably discuss it."

There it is. She'd knew that if she just chickened out long enough, he would broach the subject.

She looks down at the bottle in her hand and runs her thumb along the edge of the lid. "I...I hadn't actually decided whether or not I was going to resign when I came here the other night. I thought that maybe...well, if I..._settled_ things, maybe I would come back. But that's a big decision." She can't bear meet his eyes, can't bear to know if he's confused or if he understands what "settled" means in this context.

"May I suggest for the time being that you consider taking a leave of absence, then?" Tony says quietly. "Because resigning would mean loosing your current health insurance or getting stuck with massive co-payments to keep it, which seems a bit ridiculous with all the additional expenses a baby could bring. Well assuming…" He leaves the sentence hanging and there's a long moment of silence.

"Pepper, please look at me." He waits until she does. "Have you had time yet, to decide what you want to do in terms of aborting, keeping or putting the baby up for adoption?"

She feels like she should say yes. Like she should act like a responsible adult and do "the right thing." Except it's more complicated than that. She doesn't know what the right thing _is_, and honestly hasn't thought beyond her need to find a safe place to lick her wounds and try to adjust to everything that's happened.

So she shakes her head and looks down again before she can see any disappointment on his face.

She hears the bed creek as he shifts to the edge, and then a hand is carefully lifting her chin. Tony's face is almost unspeakably compassionate, "Pepper, if you feel that you have to go somewhere else to decide? Well I'll _hate_ it but I'll try and respect that decision. But in return I want you to give me your word that you'll bring you brother wherever you go, because I'm sorry, but I can't - I _won't _- watch you face any of those decisions alone. All that said," he drops his hand, "I'm selfish enough to admit that I hope you stay here, because helping you sort all this out scares me less than the alternative."

The echoes of an old conversation play between them. She's all he has. If she leaves he'll be alone. But there's so much about her that he doesn't know or understand, mainly because she's done all she can to keep him in the dark.

It's time to change that, so that he can start to understand. "Ask me some of the questions that have you hiding in here," she whispers. "Then you can decide whether or not you want me to stay, Tony."

"Why did you run when this happened, Pepper? Why didn't you just come to me?" The inquiry is whisper soft and absolutely agonized. Spoken by a man trying to understand what has caused what he probably considers his greatest failure.

She closes her eyes in pain. "It wasn't because I didn't trust _you_, Tony. It's me. I felt so ashamed. So..." She doesn't want to say dirty, because that will lead him back to his rape conclusion, and she still doesn't know what to say about that.

"Why ashamed?" Tony seems to be homing in on the worst possible questions. "Or more precisely...why so ashamed you'd think for a second it would change the way I feel about you?"

"Because..." Pepper stops fighting it because if nothing else he deserves the truth. "Tony, I slept with someone because I wanted to change the way I felt about _you_. And it worked, just not in the way I wanted it to. I can barely stand to be in the same room with you anymore because I'm so disgusted with myself."

The room gets very quiet. Frighteningly so. She forces herself to look at him again and chews her lip when she does.

Inescapable pain is fighting with indescribable rage on his face. This is what she fears most given form: he can't even bring himself to reply.

"Okay...I'm...I'm going to go now. Give you some space."

Before she can even turn his hands shoot out, grabbing her shirt and tugging her into his lap. He takes a shuddering breath and says only two words. "No. Stay."

She freezes in his arms, startled by the suddenness of the motion and her inability to predict it. "Tony?" Her voice is strangled. "I need...I'll stay, just..." 'Let me go.'

He wraps his arms around her tighter, burying his face in her hair and just shaking for several long seconds. Then she hears a gasping breath, drawn in through a tightly clenched throat before he finally starts speaking. "I'm sorry, Pepper, that you were that afraid of me. Of _this_. I'd kill every monster in the world if I thought it change the reasons. But superhero or not, some things are just beyond me."

"I don't understand." It's the best she can do when his arms are so tight around her. It's exactly what she's wanted for months now, and thanks to her stupidity it's about the last thing she can take. The strength implied in his grasp is enough to scare her even though she _knows _she has no reason to fear him.

His arms finally loosen, until he lets her go entirely, but he doesn't push her away as much as set her to one side, carefully.

And then he gets up and kneels in front of her on the bedroom floor.

"Look, I'm not going to say I'm not angry, Pepper. Because I am: I'm furious in fact, but mostly at _them_. Because this fear you have at the thought of being my lover can't have just come out of a vacuum. Sweetheart, somewhere along the way someone _really _had to have hurt you."

The affectionate nickname coupled with the truth is more than she can take. She shakes her head and backpedals. "It's _my_ fault this happened and no one else's. I didn't want to rock the boat, Stark. We're friends and I didn't want that to change."

Tony's shakes his head though his tone remains unchanged. "Do _not_ try to lie to me, Potts. If it had been as simple as that you could have simply _told me_ and I would have respected your wishes. You _know_ that."

"It's not a lie. I _need_ you to be my friend, Tony."

"Then it's at best a run around. You know I'm your friend. What's more, you have to know by now that not matter what, I always will be." His eyes narrow. "As your friend I would have supported you through this. And as _my_ friend you owed me a more than to just disappear into the middle of nowhere without any warning. We're not just friends anymore though, are we Pepper? We haven't been anything that simple for months. You figured out we're already lovers before I did and you panicked, didn't you?"

Pepper tries not to look at him, but he's so close that her only option is to turn her head, and she knows that if she even tries that he'll just move back into her line of vision.

"We can't..._I_ can't..." Even when she closes her eyes she can see the earnest look on his face. "I have issues, Tony. Ones you don't deserve to get stuck with." It's a massive understatement, but it's as close as she can come to the truth right now.

Tony's face hardens. "Pepper, that's not your call to make. We can talk about why you're afraid. Hell we can even talk about how we're going to help you fight it and try and move on to a place where there's not so much fear or pain. But from here on out, the word 'can't' doesn't get to be in your vocabulary. Because you are making _choices_, so it's not can't, it's _won't_."

"And that's my prerogative, Tony." She's starting to get desperate.

He nods. "Unfortunately, yes. But then at least neither of us has to keep pretending that it's anything but bullshit that you're trying to justify the fact that you're running away." He climbs to his feet, albeit clumsily. "As we've already established, we're already more than friends, Pep. So you don't get to pretend that you're doing anything but deliberately choosing to hurt me."

She'd been about to point out that she'd known the term "bullshit" was going to appear eventually, but he's effectively derailed her. "I _never_ wanted to hurt you, Tony. I was trying as hard as I could not to."

"Bullshit, Pepper. You haven't been thinking of me at all. That's the _rationalization _you've been using to keep protecting _you._ If you had been thinking about me then you wouldn't have effectively gone solo trying to make _our _decision." His hands clench at his sides, though he carefully modulates his voice. "Your life's not just yours anymore, Potts, and in case you haven't noticed, that claim runs both ways."

She genuinely has no idea what he's talking about. "But you don't... We're just friends."

"I don't what? I don't love you?" Tony runs his hands through his hair and wonders if she's deliberately trying to drive him mad or something.

"Well...yeah."

Yes. She must be, Tony, concludes, because if she's truly this blind then he's going to have to do something _drastic_. Like, propose immediately or something.

"You know what? Fuck it." He walks on shaky legs across the room, pulls open a bureau drawer and tosses her a package. "I had intended to start smaller - your Christmas present - but if you're going to be this damn oblivious..." Some clues required a shovel to the head.

Pepper catches the projectile almost on instinct, then looks down and finds herself holding a small jeweler's bag.

"Open it." It's not a request. Tony's hands are on his hips.

Her hands are shaking. She doesn't want to obey him, but there's something to his tone...she's more afraid of what he might do if she doesn't comply. The knot comes undone and she inverts the bag, feeling the clang of something dropping into her cupped hand. It's white and blue...gold and sapphire. An intricately woven knot with a modest looking but undeniably expensive diamond mounted into it.

Pepper Potts is looking down at what her brain supplies in an Algerian love knot shaped into an engagement ring.

"I-I can't. Tony, I _can't_ accept this." There are tears in her eyes and in her voice, and she hope he realizes that she literally _can't_. There is nothing about her right now that's even remotely worth loving, much less worth committing to.

Tony's jaw twitches. "What did I tell you about switching words, Potts? Try that one again."

"I don't deserve it," she tries, slipping the ring back into the bag and pulling the drawstring tight.

Tony growls. "It's a _present_, Pepper. Not something you earn or deserve. Love is not a reward. And for the record, if you even try and give that thing back I'm going to fucking spank you."

Some of the life returns to her eyes as she glares at him. "Even try it and I will ask Mick if he brought his handcuffs with him. And not the fun kind like you have in your drawer."

He advances toward her carefully, body practically sparking with frustration. "Your brother would probably help me, Pepper. And if I'm wrong - well he's not here." He sucks in a deep breath, and stops his advance. "You may run my schedule Potts, but you're arrogant as hell if you think that gives you the right to tell me who I will or won't choose to love."

Pepper scoots back across the bed carefully, a half-formed thought in the back if her head telling her she needs to be _off_ it and that having it between them might not be a bad idea either. "Whether or not you love me has nothing to do with the fact that I can't accept that ring."

"Then break it down – tell me why. Just don't try dishing any crap, because there's enough of that between us already.' He crosses his arms and he waits for her to explain.

"I purposely cheated on you, Tony. Mick tried to tell me that it doesn't count if you didn't know, but he's wrong." Her chin goes up in the air as she fires the first volley.

"And?" Tony shoots it right back.

"And? What do you mean, 'and?'" she demands. "I'd think that was self-explanatory."

"Hate to break it to you Pepper, but that's not reason enough. I'm about to crush your escape route. _I forgive you._"

He stands there unimpressed, waiting for the fireworks to begin.

"So you're not mad at all." She sounds almost scathing.

He snorts, "Forgiveness is not me saying that I'm not going to feel angry or hurt by what you've done, Pepper. It just means I won't hold your actions or my feelings against you."

She doesn't like that answer. Not at all. Her lips curl up. "I deliberately found someone who _looked_ like you, Tony. I took him home and I fucked him."

She's literally trying to drive him away but he's not budging. "Yes you did. It was totally shitty. I still forgive you."

She looks ready to explode. Tony smirks a little. "What's the matter Pepper? Would it just be easier if I just hated you?"

"Yes! Because that I would understand," she growls because she's sick to death of this argument. Hell, she's had it a thousand times with Mick. "I'm tired of people letting me get away with shitty behavior just because I'm fucked up," she mutters under her breath as she tosses the bag with the ring in it into the middle of the bed. "I'm sorry, Tony, but my answer is no."

An ominous silence descends in the room. When Tony strides forward she actually flinches and steps back.

"Fine." His tone is absolutely deadly. "Then we'll do this your way."

"What are you doing?" she asks as she steps back a little.

"Honoring your wishes." He keeps right on coming.

Her hands raise defensively. "Don't -" 'Exactly how angry _is_ he?'

He rolls his eyes. "Pepper, give me a break. Frustrated sarcasm aside, I'm _not_ into spanking except for fun and mutual pleasure, and you're not six years old." He points to a chair beside the bed. "Now put your ass in a chair. You want accountability, Potts? You're gonna get it."

He waits until she obeys, and then he pulls a notebook and pen from the drawer and tosses it in her lap. "I can't write worth a damn with this cast. So you're writing out the shit list for me. And I expect total honesty."

"List?" Pepper doesn't so much choose to sit in the chair as she's so confused that she needs a minute to catch up with him.

"Yes. I want a bulleted list of all the shitty things you're done in the last…lets say 8 weeks. Number one is deliberately jeopardizing your own safety, number two will be trying to sneak out without the goodbye that both of us know I deserved. I want a list and I want the victims, be it yourself, your brother, the guy you slept with, or me."

She's quiet a long time and just watches him like this is some kind of joke. When he doesn't back down she looks at the pad in her lap and starts writing slowly. He stands and waits without further comment until she is finished. Her final list is a full two pages long and spills over onto a third.

Logically she knows she could have gotten away with listing things like "lying" just once, but that wouldn't be honest either. She lists every occasion she can remember, from lying about why she was late (Said I was caught in traffic when morning sickness kept me from getting ready) to why she'd been up all night (Said I'd been working when really my mind was just working too hard to let me sleep). And that's just the tip of the iceberg. What doesn't end up on the list is his assertion that she'd deliberately endangered herself – because from her point of view she hadn't.

Of course, her refusal to put that on the list ends up on the list.

Almost all of the "shitty" things she's done have been against him, though there are also three for Mick, and two glaring things against the baby. The first is that she got pregnant at all, and the second is that she accepted 500,000 to stay quiet about it.

Even with line spill over and double spacing, there are about 25 listed offenses on each page. A total of fifty seven by the time she is done.

When she can think of no more she caps the pen and hands over the notebook. "These are the ones I can think of off the top of my head. There's probably more." She bows her head and waits quietly for him to read.

"Off the top of your...?" Tony takes the list and wonders if he's really up for this. Because this is insane. She's so condemning of herself and so forgiving of him, and he wants to yell at her for it. He wants to spend the next _two hours_ yelling at her for it.

He makes himself read the list one item at a time, resisting the urge to cuss or shake his head. To make this work he's going to have to pull off the greatest bluff he's ever attempted, and that means not giving up an inch of the authority she just unintentionally handed him.

Instead he resolves the thought the only way he can, reaching out his hand. "I'd like the pen back, please."

When she hands it over, he scribbles down, "Unrealistic expectation of perfection that demands sainthood of myself, yet not from anyone else." He scrawls her name beside it. Then he puts down the notebook on the bedside table and caps the pen again.

Pepper glances up at him before she looks back down at her hands. She knows eventually he's going to make her talk about certain things on that list - especially the blood money. He's too honorable to ever understand why she'd even accepted it instead of spitting in the face of the person who'd offered it to her. But then he's not in her shoes, and as much as he tries to understand, he never will be.

"That's quite a list. I'm surprised you can even stand up straight anymore if you've been carrying it all around." Tony sighs a little. "The three pertaining to Mick you will have to settle with him, and I expect it to be done by the end of this day. You also get to choose whether he or I will get to act in the defense of the baby."

She nods without looking at him, and he just wants to end this and scoop her up in his arms and love her. But until she's ready to let him he _can't._

This list is just too much. Too much guilt to have on anyone's shoulders. If this will relieve her a little than it's worth the headache building. "I notice you didn't list anything you'd done to hurt yourself when you wrote this, Pepper."

Her eyes flash to his, and he's relieved to see the hint of temper in them before she looks away. "You said every shitty action, Tony, not reaction. It's my own fault if the rconsequences hurt. It's nothing I didn't do anything to deserve."

"You're sure that you don't want to add your name to any of these numbers?" He doesn't inform her she's literally sealing her own grave.

She nods, and he sighs a little. "All right then, count them up." He'd made the tally himself. "Just the ones that apply directly to me."

"Fifty-two," she replies without looking. She's good at her job for a reason. Remembering what she's just written is barely even worth mentioning when those reasons come up.

He nods. "Then pack up your things in the guest room. You have fifteen minutes to get them transferred down to the master bedriin. You're spending the next fifty two nights in here with me."

One moment she's not looking at him, and the next her eyes are all he can see. They're huge in a face quickly draining of color. Her hands start trembling, and then the rest of her body, and then her head as she shakes it quickly. "I can't, Tony. I can't sleep with you. I -"

Tony keeps his voice firm, while granting just the slightest bit of mercy. He wants to touch her, wants to offer some reassurance that he's not that heartless a bastard, but he's not certain he can at the moment without her completely falling apart. "I'm not asking your permission, Pepper. Be damn glad I'm saying one night an offense instead of three. We're both going to be fully clothed and we're going to be _sleeping_, but it's not otherwise open to discussion. This entire listhad one single catalyst. You went to someone else as a way to avoid coming to me. The best punishments in my opinion fit the crime."

"Only sleep?" she asks. Her voice is so hoarse it hurts even to listen to.

"Pepper, how much of a jerk do you think that I am?" He makes himself roll his eyes. "I'm not a monster, but for the record I'm also done holding back if you look like you need a hug or other physical comfort. Because you're _not _afraid to touch me. Or at least you only are when you're thinking too much about it."

The panic recedes faster than she thought it would, leaving her shaky with adrenaline and just a little queasy. As she bends over to put her head between her knees though, she sighs deeply with relief. Yes, Tony's pushing, but he's not trying to push her off a cliff.

Of course she's not afraid of touching him. It's him touching her that she's uncertain of. Her mind knows that she's the last person Tony would ever hurt - her body is the one that has trouble differentiating one large body from another. But when she's the one doing the touching, that's not as much of a problem.

And comfort has boundaries. Boundaries she can set if she needs to and know he'll respect.

She can do this, she thinks. She can sleep in the same bed as him, especially if he gives her enough space. It's only during the night, after all, and she knows his sleeping habits. More often than not she'll probably have the bed to herself, especially once his hand starts getting better and he returns to his life as a chronic insomniac.

"I...I think that I want you to speak for the baby. Mick's going to be too biased because he's blood." She's as surprised as he is by that simple interjection. So is Tony, judging by his flummoxed expression.

"You said I had to choose," she reminds him.

He nods. "I'm not saying I object, I'll just need some time to think about an appropriate set of consequences."

She looks mildly surprised. "The tally's not just going to go up?"

"Pepper...we're not talking about ways you hurt me. The same rules don't apply." The responsibility she's offering is actually a little bit humbling. Because this is a life...this is _her_ child. And whether she's emotionally strong enough yet to value it's existence because of that or not, he's beginning to.

Still, if she thinks he's less conflicted then Mick by its presence, well she's in a denial he'll leave her in for the moment at least. Either way he's going to take the responsibility very seriously.

In the meantime…"Why don't you go get your things?" he asks as he sits down kinda hard on the bed. "I'll wait here until you get back." There are more things they'll need to talk about, foremost among them being the night she got pregnant. Her reaction to sharing a bed with him was frankly scary, both because of how intense it'd been and how quickly she'd calmed down when he'd promised no sex.

The fact he'd had to promise at all, still stings a little. Though it adds tremendous weight to both he and Mick's pet theories as well.

'For whatever reason, the thought of sex has her in an absolute panic.' He's uncertain though whether they should talk about it now or if he should let them regroup awhile and wait for Mick to get home.

Because he fully intends to remain not just her comforter but her eventual lover.

'And that, as they say, is the rub.' Just because he's not going to jump her doesn't mean this new situation is going to be easy for either of them. She seems to think that their sharing a bed will be like sharing a tent at summer camp. She's forgotten a number of uncomfortable details.

Like warm bodies tend to find each other when they sleep.

Like a lack of intent to act isn't going to prevent his occasional physical arousal.

Like the fact that the sheer physical attraction between them will still be there once the initial panic fades.

This is just...well, it's fucked up, that's what it is. This isn't how things should have happened between them, and the moment Pepper leaves the room Tony lays down on the bed and tries to ignore the headache pounding between his eyes.

He wonders for the millionth time if he's not in way over his head.

He'd had a _plan – _back when he'd bought that ring. He'd had the necklace to give her for Christmas which should have been enough of a sign to her of his feelings that she wouldn't freak out when he started to act on them. Slowly of course. He'd had dinner reservations made for New Year's Day. He hadn't wanted to rush anything. He'd wanted to give them both time to adjust to the new circumstances and _enjoy_ them.

Now he has fifty two more days of her presence, guaranteed. He wonders if she realizes that she just extended her departure date by an additional three weeks.

Still, seven weeks seems like a heartbeat to him. Not nearly enough time to combat a lifetime of terror, though it will be a start at least.

The way he sees it, he's basically going to have to trick her into letting him use the approach he would have used if she'd actually come to him in the first place. He's going to have to be regularly in her space in slowly increasing amounts and intensities. Get her used to his presence and start associating his touch with something other than fear. If he can do that, he's betting natural attraction will take care of the rest.

'Not that she's not going to panic. I'm just going to have to ignore it.' It will be a delicate balancing act, with absolutely crucial consequences.

'Phobic' desensitization. He hasn't read up on this since he was still back in college. It's time to brush up on the subject again.

He's also going to have to explain his plan to Mick, and hopefully get some decent feedback. He only hopes the young man agrees with him, because at the moment, this is the best he can think of.

Either way, this is the biggest gamble he's ever wagered in his entire life.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm telling you, Stark: put it down. I may be pregnant but I am certainly not helpless. Even think about it and I will retaliate. Besides, if Mick catches us doing this, do you know how much trouble we'll be in?"

Michael Andrews pauses as he carries an armload of bags up from the basement, raising an eyebrow as he pauses outside the kitchen and waits for Tony's reply.

"Pepper, it's my house. Besides, we're eating ice cream, not committing a felony. "

"That's not ice cream, and I don't buy that innocent act for a moment. If you spray me with that, Anthony Stark -"

"You'll _what_? Throw the bowl at me in retaliation? I _told _you to save me some of that hot caramel syrup."

"I'm starving, pregnant and craving," she shoots back. "You'll have to make do with the nuts and hot fudge. There's plenty of both."

"Trust me, I have nothing against hot fudge..." Tony's voice is playfully suggestive, but probably no less truthful for that. "It doesn't mean I don't like a little embellishment."

Pepper snorts. "Then you should have no trouble handing over the can then, before I schedule you back to back budget meetings for the next four weeks straight."

Mick finally peeks around the corner and raised an eyebrow at the sight that is waiting.

Pepper is standing with her back to him, a jar of caramel syrup held behind her, and Tony's in front of her with a threateningly poised can of whipped cream that lowers as he stares at her in consternation.

"Hey! No fair!" he protests, "I thought we agreed you are on a temporary leave of absence…"

She smirks at him evilly. "I said I'd _think_ about taking one...and either way I'm the one who'll be training my replacement." She holds out her hand. "Now hand it over, Tony, or face the consequences."

"Okay, it's not fair that you get the caramel _and_ the whipped cream." Tony inverts the can and sprays some into his mouth before handing it over.

Pepper rolls her eyes, "I'm not taking it to eat it, I'm taking it in self-defense. Consider it the removal of a dangerous weapon."

"You're both going to spoil your lunch," Mick informs them archly as he steps into the kitchen. He heads over to the counter and sets down his bags.

"I was hungry," Pepper immediately says as she turns around. "And there wasn't anything else to eat. Apparently Tony used the last of the bread to make me toast this morning."

Mick doesn't answer, just raises an eyebrow but he's not at all blind to the fact that his sister is blushing or that Tony - apparently unhindered by his reappearance - is just a touch closer to her than what would be considered a polite distance.

"So what'cha bring?" Tony calls over Pepper's shoulder. "Because Pepper here seems to be having a few problems with sharing." He snatches the can of whipped cream back and looks at it, then Mick a little bit consideringly.

"You're flirting again," Pepper mutters under her breath.

"He stole my candy," Tony mutters in protest. "He's not my type, Potts. We've already established that fact."

"I've seen you both after you've gotten a few drinks in you," she points out. "Neither of you necessarily go for 'your type' then. Forgive me if I'm less than convinced." Both men look at her and then shift apart.

Mick finally sighs, and is the first one to speak.

"Sis, knock it off - as I said I'm _taken_. We're both taken actually. That stated," he looks at the can consideringly, "I have cuffs in my bag and I'm not afraid to use them, Stark. I'm also a trained black belt, so consider you actions carefully."

Tony shrugs and sprays more whipped cream into his mouth. After he swallows he says, "I've got a metal suit in my basement that can blow up tanks. I think that my suit trumps your cuffs."

"Shall I hand you two boys rulers and leave you alone?" Pepper mutters this under her breath as she takes the bags from her brother and starts emptying them out on the counter.

Mick's been busy: the take is remarkable. There's artisan bread and fish from what she's guessing in an open market. There's also an assortment of fresh fruits and vegetables, including a set of peaches that smell so good that her mouth starts to water.

"Mick, do you have any plans for these?" She holds up one of the peaches.

"The general plan is to open mouth, insert, chew and swallow," her brother informs her solemnly.

She rolls her eyes, then pulls out a knife, quickly peeling and dicing the fruit before she dumps the results on top of her ice cream. "Where's that hot fudge?" As she asks that, she digs a jar of peanut butter out of a grocery bag and unscrews the lid.

Tony watches in disbelief and Mick in amusement. "Okay. First; Yuck. Second; I'd suggest you slow down a little there, Ginny."

She narrows her eyes at her brother. "I'm starving, Mick. I'm not asking you to eat it, so keep your opinions to yourself." It's not like she's adding pickles. Though sauerkraut sounds kind of good.

"Pepper, you haven't eaten anything substantial in days. Do you really want to start with something so rich?"

"You are absolutely no fun," Pepper grumbles as she opens the freezer door and shoves the ice cream inside.

"If by 'no fun' you mean I don't want you making yourself sick, then yes I'm guilty as charged. Start with a peach." Mick digs through the bag. "And there's a rotisserie chicken in one of the bags. Plain. I want you to try some of that."

Tony raises his eyebrow. "Are you a cook or a dietician, Andrews? Because to me, you just sound like a Nana."

Mick shrugs, "My ex-partner at work for the last five years has hypoglycemia." Mick looks at Tony "So...have you stopped the macho bullcrap and taken your prescription yet? Because you look like you've been run over by a tank."

"No," Pepper mutters under her breath as she peals a second peach. "Are you still going to make the skewers for dinner? Because they sound _fabulous_."

"Depends on how you handle this plain chicken and fruit. You have to survive culinary little league before you graduate to the majors."

Pepper glares. "I do know how to cook too, you know. I can just make them myself."

Mick looks unimpressed. "If you want to take over, Ginny, go ahead. But I sort of thought that half of the reason you wanted me here was so you could try and recover a little and let someone else take care of the details for a while." There's no judgment in Mick's tone, there's in fact total understanding, like he may actually envy the privilege of caring for someone a little.

Pepper stares at him for a long time before she sighs a little and nods. "You're right," she says softly. She goes in search of the chicken her brother has mentioned.

Mick snickers a little. "Think of it this way, Pepper - you literally have me as your slightly bossy _slave _for the next couple of weeks." He waggles his eyebrows. "Most would _kill_ for the privilege, so I suggest you enjoy it."

"More would kill you after they got the privilege," she mutters as she locates the chicken. "You're telling me this is completely unseasoned?

"No. It's got salt, pepper and garlic on it. I tried a sample in store. It's still pretty mild."

Tony wanders over to where Pepper's standing and pops the lid off with his good hand, inhaling deeply. "It smells good at least." He bumps Pepper's hip almost thoughtlessly with his own. "Scoot over and let me handle the meat removal just in case your stomach decides to turn."

She scoots about two feet away immediately before she freezes and shifts her weight back towards him a little before she takes another step away. "I'm going to go wash my hands before I eat." She hurries out of the room without meeting the eyes of either man.

"Mick, Tony might need help with carving. He's not a southpaw after all."

If Tony's hurt by the panicked reaction, he doesn't show it visibly. Or at least he doesn't until she's out of the room. Then he puts his head down on the counter and sighs deeply for a moment, before standing again and going to find a knife.

"Did you talk to her at all while I was gone? I told her she ought to, and from the way you two were teasing each other, I assumed that you had," Mick says as he takes over the task of putting away the groceries. He's not going to crowd Stark at the moment, unless the man actually asks for help. The chicken should be easier to handle than Pepper realizes; the meat's still hot and literally dropping off of the bone.

Mick notes the fact that Tony doesn't look at him directly as he answers. "Yes, and if Pepper comes looking or you to settle a tab later just do me a favor - take her seriously and set appropriate consequences, all right?"

"So you did talk, then." Mick confirms, a little relieved.

"She attempted to convince me it was in all of our best interests for me to not be in love with her," Tony informs him a little dryly.

"I take it you weren't convinced." It's not really a question.

"We agreed to disagree." Tony sighs. "She also ended up pretty much digging her own grave. She made a crack about how she's tired of being allowed to get away with crap."

Mick circles the island so that he can see Tony's face. "She didn't have a...list...did she?"

Tony does look at him then. His expression is wry. "Three pages long. Off the 'top of her head.'"

Mick groans and cups his face in one hand. "What's she convinced you to do in retaliation so that she can feel better?"

"Nothing. She didn't get a say in picking any of her punishments. I made her label a victim for each one. She has to settle up with them. As I was saying though, I think that this matters to her at least, so please take it seriously."

The sound of Pepper's footsteps interrupts them. Mick straightens up and starts putting groceries away again.

Tony gets back to work again on the chicken. He's got a decent pile of chicken piled on a plate for her by the time she edges back into the kitchen.

"Have the two of your been playing nicely?" she asks cautiously.

"He's been staring at my ass," Tony informs her as he shoves the plate across the counter.

"As long as he's touching with his eyes and not with his hands..." She takes a seat at the kitchen table.

"Okay for the third time: taken. As in, not remotely interested." Mick brings a plate of cheese and grapes over and sets it on the counter. "You know Stark, if you take your meds with...say a whole bunch of food, it'll greatly mitigate the druggy feeling. Just a thought to contemplate," he says tartly.

Pepper looks over at Tony, and though she doesn't say anything, her eyes speak volumes. Mainly, "Take the damn pills."

Tony sighs and reaches for the bottle. Popping the top off and reaching a knife still on the counter, he places a single pill on the counter and then cuts it neatly in half. "Now stop obsessing," he warns them both, dropping the one half back into the container and swallowing the half remaining on the cutting board dry.

Pepper opens her mouth to make a smart reply but Jarvis interrupts her.

"Mr. Stark, there is an unidentified female at the front gates requesting permission to come onto the property."

Pepper frowns. "There should be no one on the schedule until after the New Year."

Tony cocks his head. "Did she state her name and business?"

"She says her name is Ms. Wright."

Mick violently coughs on the grape he's chewing. "Wright?" he says very carefully. "As in Amelia?"

"She did not give a first name, Mr. Andrews."

"Well fuck." Mick sighs heavily. "Go ahead and let her in."

"Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah, yeah, let her in, Jarvis." Tony turns his attention on Mick. "Friend of yours?" he asks, one eyebrow raised.

Mick is turning kind of...grey. "My old undercover partner." He shakes his head. "How in hell did she find me here?!"

"I'll go get the door," Tony says carefully, edging out of the room before anyone can object.

That leaves Pepper with a brother who appears to know exactly how she feels about some things. "What did you do that would make her want to find you?" she probes softly.

"I imagine that she's got...objections... to the way I turned in my resignation." Mick says with a dry laugh.

"Wait, you're resigning? From the CIA? Why?"

Mick's jaw tightens. "Because unlike Dad I know when time for me to leave."

"And this Amelia is a problem because you're in love with someone else?" Pepper asks in confusion. Because by comparing himself to their father, Mick's essentially saying he's in a place where he's considering an affair, or at least that's what she's guessing.

Which makes no sense, because her brother is so obsessive about fidelity he won't even _flirt_ with a woman who's wearing a wedding ring.

Mick grimaces. "No, Mel's the problem because she can't leave the company...and there's no way I can stay." He rubs his face. "But she will never, _ever_ accept that."

"So she's the one you're in love with, not someone else," Pepper asks, just to clarify her understanding of the matter.

"If you mean by that she's my predictably impossible aspiration...yeah, pretty much." Mick sighs, turns and walks to the other side of the kitchen, thumping his head rhythmically against the wall.

The sight of him so shook up stirs something in Pepper's belly. Something strong and ordered and overprotective.

She crosses over to where Mick's standing and takes his hand, tugging him in for a hug. "Okay, for the record - if I had gotten out of here that night without Tony coming home and stopping me, and I had ended up on your doorstep, you totally wouldn't have had any right to give me any shit about running."

Mick steps away and runs a hand through his hair. "Pepper, you were running away from a job you adore and a man who's obviously in love with you. I legitimately resigned from a job that that I loathe and a woman who's so dense that she decided that the best way to fix me was to hire me a hooker."

"Pinning me up against a wall and kissing me is not a 'legitimate' resignation, Andrews. And in my defense about the hooker, you play things too damn close to the vest…well that and you always have been kinda a floozy."

A short brunette comes striding into the kitchen with an attitude that would have even Pepper stepping lightly around her. "You were seriously acting whacky. It was what made sense at the time."

Mick looks less than impressed. "I'm touched. So how did you find me?"

Amelia snorts. "The next time you want to go to ground, Michael, don't hang around a public figure who'll end up on CNN. Just a tip"

"We were on CNN?" Pepper turns a stern glare on Tony. "You turned off the phones?" There should be all sorts of calls getting routed to the house. When everyone called her number to get info on what had happened and found her line disconnected, then the house was the next logical place to call. Except she hasn't heard a single phone ring since she's been here.

"You're grounded from the phone, Potts. Medical leave. Jarvis has it covered and nothing particularly important has come in." Tony doesn't look the least bit apologetic. Pepper bares her teeth.

"You." Ignoring the other couple's drama for her own, Amelia continues advancing on Mick until she's got him backed into the counter. "You, Andrews, are in _shit-loads_ of trouble." Then she tugs his head down and she kisses him. Pepper watches as a five-foot-nothing pissed off woman gets the best of her six-foot-two brother with a single locking of lips. She's still not sure how Amelia's even managed it, except to assume that Mick's feelings are somehow working against his better judgment.

"I love you, you asshole," Amelia informs him as she breaks a moment for air. "And if you run out on me again I will nail your _ass_ to the wall when I track you down. Do you understand?"

Tony raises an eyebrow. He looks to Pepper. "Yeah, I think your brother is pretty much taken."

"You know, I think I've heard that," she murmurs back quietly, her eyes still locked on the couple in awe.

Mick says something too quietly for them to hear but Amelia's response is more than loud enough for everyone. "I was waiting for _you_ to make the first move, dumbass! Since when do you hold back when you're interested in someone? As long as it wasn't me - or so I thought - I decided you needed help to get out of your funk." Then in a quieter tone she adds, "Though you're probably right about the hooker being a bad move."

"Hooker?" Tony whistles, and shakes his head. "And they say I'm an ass, sometimes."

"You are." Pepper elbows him in the side as both Mick and Amelia turn to stare at them.

Mick looks shaky. No. Mick looks _floored_. "Not a word, Virginia!" he says to Pepper in warning, as he pushes the woman away gently. Amelia, reluctant to let him go, simply pivots in his arms until she can lean back against him.

"Was it an expensive hooker?" Pepper asks, because she really can't help herself. "Because Mick's taste is usually pretty good, and he'd never go for someone off a street corner."

Amelia snorts. "She was middle of the road. I found her through an escort service. Because as vain as your brother is, he can't handle when his amorous target is actually prettier than he is."

"Hmm..." Pepper thinks about that as she looks at Tony. Tony Stark is definitely not "pretty," per se, but -

'What are you doing?' her logical mind breaks in.

'Oh.' "Oh!" Pepper snaps to. "I'm Ginny." She holds out her hand and introduces herself with the name Mick's most likely used talking about her.

"You an old friend of Mick's?" Amelia takes the hand gamely.

Behind her Mick shifts slightly. "Not exactly. Amelia, meet my big sister."

"Sister!?" "What?!" Amelia and Pepper speak at the same time, then turn matching glares on Mick. It's obvious that they both want further explanation.

Mick raises his hands. "You built a life on the outside the agency, Pepper. I didn't want it fucked with. If no one knows about the connection between us, then no one can make you a target." He growls slightly when Amelia starts to protest. "Which you _know _happens way too often, Wright, so don't even start. Meyers went rogue on us and threatened four of our agent's families just in the last year."

"Oh, so now you think I would go rogue. Or that I would tell other people things you told me in strictest confidence, then?" As the woman turns to face Mick and crosses her arms, Tony taps Pepper's shoulder and tilts his head towards the nearest exit.

Pepper nods and starts inching toward the door. "Oh no you don't, Ginny." Mick's voice stops her in her tracks. "You have gestational diabetes. Get back over here and eat."

The sheer amount of authority in Mick's voice is enough to make his sister comply and Amelia raise her eyebrow.

She clears her throat, "It's been awhile since I had breakfast, Andrews. Is there enough here for four?"

Mick growls as his eyes fall to her. He checks his watch. "It's three pm, Amelia. It damn well better have been a while since you finished eating your _lunch_." He hands her a plate. "There's apple juice still in the fridge. I suggest you start with that first if all you've had is airline peanuts. Then there's chicken and cheese and peaches in the fridge since you won't touch these grapes."

This lecture makes Tony actually snicker. 'No wonder he's so good with Pepper.'

Amelia Wright is unimpressed. "If you wanted to boss me around, Andrews, then maybe you should have taken the post they offered you instead of abandoning me. But you didn't and now I outrank you, so watch your tone."

Despite this warning, Amelia goes over to the fridge anyway and pulls out the apple juice. "Can someone point me to the glasses?"

Mick snorts and opens the correct cupboard. "In case you forget the envelope I threw down on your desk before I left, I officially _resigned_, Amelia. Which makes me a civilian, which means I don't give a fuck if you outrank me."

Tony takes a plate himself and starts loading it with food. He looks at his assistant. "Aren't they just so sweet to each other?"

Pepper elbows him again as she helps herself to some chicken. Then she asks about the thing that confuses her the most. "We just came home from the hospital today. How did you get here so quickly?"

"I've been on leave myself for three weeks," Amelia admits, "following a couple possible leads on my errant partner here. I was in Colorado." She pauses. "Also my brother is kind of a pilot. I caught a lift."

"Kind of?" Tony asks a little sardonically.

"Retired Air Force," Amelia informs him. She shoves a plate at Mick. "Go eat yourself and stop hovering."

"Actually, while you're up? Did you buy any bagels or cream cheese?" Pepper asks curiously. "And not the fake cream cheese, but the real kind?"

Amelia snorts. "Fake cream cheese. From the man who once gave me a two and a half _hour_ lecture on the evils of eating dairy that's non-organic?" She shakes a finger at Mick's face. "For the record, Mick, I'm still not giving up hot dogs for you."

"She sounds a lot like you," Tony says to Pepper.

Pepper snorts. "_I'm_ not the one with an unnatural addiction to fast food cheeseburgers. Mick, I need you to introduce Tony to actual salad. And maybe a colon cleanse if you have a recipe for that..."

Pepper steals another grape and pops it into her mouth as she says this. Tony just looks at her with a wondering look on his face, like he thinks she really might be serious.

"I eat fresh foods." He sounds a little wounded.

"Yes, after you puree the hell out of them with sugar in your oversized blender."

Mick snorts "Careful sis, insulting a man's 'blender' doesn't usually go over well if you're hoping to come out on top."

Pepper rolls her eyes then gets up to check the fridge for herself, since no one seems eager to get her a bagel. If there are any.

"Only if it's a stick blender," she hears Amelia mutter. "If there are bagels can I filch one as well?"

"Chicken first, Wright. It's an easier protein for your body to break down."

Amelia rolls her eyes. "Andrews, I'm older than you, so please stop talking like you are my mother."

"Don't mind him, he's just flirting," Pepper says absently as she starts rearranging the contents of the fridge.

"Virginia! What is with you and 'flirting?'" Mick demands. "And what are you doing?"

"You are so flirting, and you put things in the wrong spots."

"There's a wrong spot for things in my fridge?" Tony sounds a little stunned by this fact, despite Pepper's nod.

"You just don't realize that because I always put away the groceries," she mutters as Mick gently closes the door on her, forcing her to go sit down. "And there are no bagels."

"Yes, well the store didn't have any but the super processed kind in the bread aisle. Later today or tomorrow I intend to find a real bakery. Though," he shrugs, "I have enough ingredients I could also make them from scratch. It will just take awhile to prepare."

Pepper sighs as she regains her seat, then puts her head down on the table.

"You okay?" Tony sits down beside her and speaks softly. He pushes a plate with another dissected peach in her direction.

"I'm fine." She toys with the peach before taking a bite. The juice dribbles down her chin a little and she wipes it off with the back of her hand before she looks around for something to wipe her hand off with.

"So..." Amelia asks after a moment or two of silent chewing. "Where's a reasonably priced midlevel hotel that's close to here?"

Tony has a napkin and he gently takes Pepper's hand in his to wipe off for her. He tries to ignore the way it trembles in his grasp as he answers Amelia. "You can stay here. No charge other than the fact you have to, you know, put up with us."

"Which, once you know him, is a pretty steep rent," Mick informs his partner seriously, setting his own plate on the table. "Pepper, I did get cream cheese. Want to spread it on top of crackers like Mum used to have us do?"

"Did you buy the rye flour kind?"

Mick pushes back from his plate, goes to the cupboard and brings back an assortment of different boxes and two kinds of cream cheese.

"Mmmm. Onion," is Amelia's opinion, as she wipes her knife with a napkin and takes a generous dollop.

Pepper wrinkles her nose and carefully reclaims her hand from Tony before she pushes the onion flavored stuff closer to their guest and opens the regular kind for herself.

"So are there certain scents that set your stomach off?" Amelia asks a little curiously, "Because with my cousin, believe it or not it was pickles. Which should have gotten her thrown out of the pregnancy club in my opinion but..." She shrugs a little bit.

"I haven't been paying much attention, actually," Pepper mumbles.

Amelia nods. "Hey - have you tried cranberry tea? It's great for stabilizing blood sugar levels, and Mick mentioned gestational diabetes.."

"I didn't know my blood sugar was off until yesterday, but I'll keep that in mind. Or Mick will."

"Already picked some up while I was out." Mick picks at the food on his plate.

"There you go." Pepper eats a few more crackers before she picks up the plate of peaches. "If no one minds, I'm going to go get caught up on the contents of my inbox."

"No work for two more days, Pepper," Tony interjects quietly. "But if you're looking to duck out of the madhouse, I'm about to do the same." He yawns deeply. "I'm going to go downstairs and work on some code revisions for awhile."

"E-mail's not work," she disagrees. "Besides, with the holidays it's been a little slow."

Tony sighs. "How about equal rest for equal work? Half an hour on the computer for half an hour at least attempting to nap? Just think about it." He finishes what on his plate. "As I said, I'll be downstairs in the shop. Just inform Jarvis if you need me up here."

Pepper just nods - which could be taken as agreement or simply acknowledgement - and watches him leave before she turns to give a lopsided smile to Mick. Then she leaves too, taking her peaches with her.

Once her footsteps fade away, Mick turns to Amelia and says, "You can't seriously be considering staying here."

Amelia shrugs. "It would save on a hotel room. Besides, I've always been a little curious to meet Anthony Stark. You have to admit, Michael, he's pretty much legendary to some people in the Company."

"Yeah, the tech geeks and the sharpshooters. You're neither. What is it that you want?" Mick's voice is harsh.

"Right now? A solid ten hours of sleep. It's been busy since you left," she informs him frankly. "I've got almost three months of unclaimed vacation that the director told me I could either take willingly or he was going to make me take by marooning me on some sort of desert island."

Mick just looks at her. He knows she's being deliberately obtuse, and he wants to shake her for it. Touching her would be a bad idea though, because he also wants to kiss her. It hadn't been fair of her to kiss him like that at all, never mind that there wasn't a chance in hell of him getting to return the favor.

And so he settles for the truth, hoping he's offensive enough to get her to pull up camp because he cannot live with her for any time at all without it hurting like hell when she leaves.

"I don't want you to stay here."

Amelia doesn't flinch that he can see at that rejection. "Fine. Then it sounds like you and I are going to have to stick to opposite sides of the house while I'm here."

She finishes her last cracker and carries her plate to the sink. "For the record being scared, Mick…it will only give you so many free passes on being shitty. It's been twenty hours since I last slept, and I'm going to fix that now. Enjoy your obsessive compulsive cooking. I'll see you later."

He goes after her, catches her by the wrist with something in mind to say to her. But when she looks up at him, he looses whatever it was that had been ready to spill from his lips.

"I get it, you're scared," she says softy as she pulls herself free of his hand. "But you also want me. And whatever reason you've used to convince yourself that it won't work between us...well, you're going to have to prove it to me as well. And I doubt whatever reason you've got is that good. Now I've got to go find Stark and get him to tell me what room to use, so please let me go."

Something flashes in Mick's eyes for perhaps a tenth of a second. Something wild and panicked and hungry all at once, and then she's pinned against the wall and in a scene eerily reminiscent of earlier, he's shoving _his_ tongue down _her_ throat.

She's a little shocked - she honestly hadn't been fishing for any sort of response - but she's not stupid. She wraps her arms around his neck with enough strength to haul herself up his body. There's something to be said for the training regimen he's put them through for the last four years, though the adrenaline rushing through her system doesn't hurt either.

He kisses her then, for a long span of seconds. Seconds during which she's fairly certain he's completely lost his mind, because it's all in that kiss. All the hunger, all the pain and all the need he's kept tamped down is no longer being even remotely held back.

Her hands turn soothing, running up and down his back in broad sweeps as she starts kissing him in return. At first she matches his pace, but then she gets him to slow down at a little, then a little more, reining him in until he's still pressing her against the wall but their foreheads are resting against each other and they're both panting hard as they try to catch their breath.

"You can stay in my room," he tells her softly. "And get lots of sleep. You'll need it tonight." He gestures to the counter. "I need to get this done, but I'll probably come join you for a nap in a couple of hours."

Her heart leaps and her mouth goes dry, but she tries not to show it. After four years on the job together, it's not the first time they've shared a room or a bed though it is the nicest place they've done so.

This is also different in situation. They are not undercover.

"You sure you want everyone aware of our business? Or are you just counting on us being horrible actors?"

Mick snorts. "I don't give a fuck what people think. Besides, somebody in this house at least should actually be able to enjoy sex."

She blinks at that. "Huh? Uhm excuse me?"

Mick sighs. "It's a very long story, Mel. And anything more than the very basics are not mine to tell." He sighs again and shuffles his weight from foot to foot. "I'm only telling you this much right now because I screwed up earlier and spilled what was supposed to be her secret. It's probably better right now not to try and get chatty with Pepper about her baby..."

"Yeah, I think I got that much from the exuberance of her responses. Though, I gotta admit - Tony's incredibly supportive from the little I've seen. I can't believe they've been able to hide their relationship from the media this long."

Mick laughs roughly, "Amelia they're _not_ together. Or rather if they are it's official as of like three hours ago. He's not the father, which I think is a big part of Pepper's problem."

"Oh... Really? Because I could have sworn they've been married for years."

"In most ways...they probably have been...but things are a little complicated at present." He exhales deeply. "Tony thinks she might have been raped, and I'm not sure at this point whether I can afford to disbelieve him."

"Oh geeze..." Amelia pushes away a little bit. "I really came at a bad time, didn't I?"

He shrugs. "You came when you came. No point worrying about it." He pulls back finally, looking every bit as tired as she feels, then turns her toward the living room and gives a gentle shove.

"Off you go now, my room's the third one down the hallway. It's the one with the blue and grey theme."

As she looks at him, Amelia decides to find out if Stark's got a gym in this sprawling mass, and to schedule some time in it if he does. Mick seriously needs some time to work his emotions out.

"Right. Naptime. Don't let me sleep through dinner."

He bends down far enough to kiss her forehead. "Assuming I'm awake, you have my word." He slaps her butt lightly. "Now get out of here so I can finish this up."

"What? Rearranging the groceries again? I never expected you to have a sibling who could match you for really _strange_ anal retentive behavior." She grins at him over her shoulder as she leaves to retrieve the bags she left by the front door.

"Watch your tone, Wright. I'm bigger than you and I know you're ticklish."

"And I know how to drop you like a brick. Just because you're claiming to be a civilian doesn't mean I won't." She snickers as she leaves.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You can do your macho posturing later."

"Yeah...I will." There's a wealth of promise in her voice, but she disappears before he can say anything else.

Mick shakes his head and watches her leave, waiting until she's out of sight before he turns back to start working on his bagel dough.

696969696969

Tony has to give Pepper credit. The open laptop on her desk does suggest that she actually tried to get some work done. But with food in her system it seems that Pepper's need for sleep has outweighed her need to stay alert.

Which is fine. It's what he prefers actually, though he wishes she would start giving in to her body's needs instead of ignoring them until she's overwhelmed.

If he lets her keep sleeping in that desk chair, her back is going to be upset with her. He's equally worried about waking her up though. Yesterday he'd been able to carry her without her stirring. At this point he's unsure he's going to manage it again.

He starts by stopping by the kitchen to speak with Mick a moment explaining only that he and Pepper have had a rooming arrangement adjustment and that Pepper will explain it to Mick if and when she's ready, but that it currently innocent.

Mick raises an eyebrow, but nods a little. "Amelia is going to be sharing my room while she's here, just so you don't needlessly point her to another room later. You look like hell, Stark. Just go and try to get some sleep."

Tony goes, getting the room ready - turning down the lights, dimming the windows, pulling the blankets back so he doesn't have to fumble at them - before going back for Pepper.

She's still asleep, now snoring softly. The sight of her makes his chest churn a little oddly as he carefully picks her up. He smiles in genuine relief when he gets her back to the bedroom without so much as a sigh.

There's so much he doesn't know yet, questions he hasn't found the courage to ask because he doesn't know what hearing the answers will do to him. Suspecting that she might have been raped is one thing. But to hear her confirm it? Probably in that tone of voice that make it sound like he's making a big deal out of nothing?

He doesn't know if he's going to be able to take that. Not without totally losing his mind.

'Don't obsess, Stark, just go to sleep.' It's something he knows will have to be confronted eventually, but right now neither of them have the resources necessary. For now he'll settle for them both resting even a little bit peacefully. So he eases her down, and covers her up, though the blanket is light since the room is already set a little warmer than he normally keeps it to keep her comfortable.

Once she's covered her moves into the attached clothes closet, changing into sweatpants and after some very careful thought, a simple white tank top. He'll probably be a bit warm while he sleeps, but considering that he'd promised they'd both stay clothed, it's as immodest as he wants to risk at the moment.

He slips out of his socks and slips into the bed, lying close enough to hear her breathing, but not so close that she doesn't have her space. He also sleeps with his back to her at the moment, which he hopes she'll take as respect for her privacy.

He doesn't fall asleep right away. Like her first night in his house, he listens to her breathe for a long time, taking comfort in the regular puffs of breath. Her body is still and calm.

Eventually sleep does come though, and with it, a temporary reprieve. He doesn't even wake when Pepper, perhaps an hour or so later, hears an aborted whimper of pain from his throbbing hand and rolls in her sleep to curl up against his back.

She settles her nose in the space between his shoulder blades and her hand over his chest, and unaware they both sink deeper into rest.


	7. Chapter 7

Before he goes to check in on Amelia, Mick puts on his tennis shoes and goes out running along the beach-front bluffs for over an hour. Which is a little ironic for his tastes, but he needs some time to process and it's really the only option he feels he has at the moment. He's infinitely thankful that he left his tennis shoes in the outer hallway when he got home, because if he hadn't and then he'd had to go into the room and Mel wasn't sleeping ...

Well he probably wouldn't have made it out of it again.

Now though he's run for what he guesses is about ten miles. And hopefully in the process he's vented enough stress and emotional turmoil to be back in control of his own head. That means he can go back to the mansion just as soon as he comes up with some kind of workable game plan both for Amelia and his sister...

'Workable huh, Andrews? In exactly what manner?' His sister is about ten feet from passively suicidal right now, and ironically when it comes to dealing with it, Tony Stark seems to be having more luck then him.

And he's a fucking doctor of _psycholog_y. That truth would sting if he wasn't so fucking relieved.

'And if that's not enough pressure for you genius, Amelia's come busting into the situation like the typical bull in the middle of a china shop.'

He'd just promised to sleep with a woman he'd spent the last four years trying actively not to be in love with In summation, he is a complete and utter _moron_.

'Why are you even here?' He should be on his way to South America right now. Except without the pseudo-buffer between her and Tony, Pepper would likely panic, so right now by all practical measures, he's _trapped_.

'Not thinking about it. _Not_ thinking about it.' Even the word make him twitchy and little bit nauseous He can't afford to dwell on his own troubles at present: there really isn't any time. He needs to keep his attention focused on the two people who are really in trouble right now and keep his mind off his own PTSD.

'Stop being such a fucking dramatist, Andrews, you know that the symptoms aren't even bad enough to call it that.' He's stable right now, and he really can't see that changing any time soon as long as he keeps handling things the way that he has.

Quitting work had been the right thing...it had been the environment that had been escalating his nightmares.

'I left. They stopped. Pretty basic indication I was right.' Amelia, thank God, hadn't realized how bad things had gotten for him in the weeks before he'd taken off - she'd been too busy healing after she was injured in a flight from an unintended break in cover. She'd been too busy dealing with a nearly fatal stab wound to know about the flashbacks and the nightmares that had been kicking the shit out of him.

He wants to keep things that way too: his partner is domineering enough. If she knows about the nightmares she's going to want to talk about why he's having them and frankly he's just not going there.

She's got enough ghosts of her own without him passing along ones that are rightfully his.

'And that means keeping up a persona nearly 24/7.' Given the fact that Pepper can't afford for him to leave right now, he's going to have to deal with Amelia the same way he would any other undercover position - by putting up a front that's solid enough that's it's relatively believable.

It shouldn't even be that difficult since he's already successfully keeping the mask up with Pepper.

His big sister hasn't even noticed his subverted tension, which is a little bit unusual. Pepper's history is such that she's got an almost dead on ability to read the true intentions of people.

Her ability to read people accurately had grown out of literal self-protection as a child.

And Amelia's not as skilled as Pepper. Her complete lack of guile is one of the major reasons he loves her. Still, he knows his partner well enough to know that she won't stop pushing until she at least believes that things are on the way back the way she wants them.

As cold as it may sound it may be easier to just give in and be her temporary lover right now, than to do what's probably necessary to make her permanently leave.

He's going to have to play a very sneaky pseudo-submissive in the next couple of weeks and hope she doesn't notice. 'Yeah. Good luck with that. Snow-balls don't melt in hell.'

It's got a maybe 30 percent chance of actually working, but it's still the best odds he's got at present.

Amelia is well…Amelia. She will never leave The Family...Sooner or later she'll get restless and go back, and whether she likes it or not, he won't be going with her.

At least they'll both have what he hopes are decent memories.

It's the best option he has, because the harder he shuts himself down the more that she'll continue to push him. Amelia doesn't like being told no: his best - no his _only_ way out of this is to yield at part of what she's asking for. To compromise at least for the time being.

He can give her his body. He's given that to so many other people that's just about the least he can offer. But if he's going to come out of this with any chance of being whole then he's going to have to keep his heart out of it.

They can be friends, and they can have sex, but any way that they become lovers can only be superficial at best. That means he's going to have to set boundaries as to how he will and won't act...this alters nothing in terms of what in his life he does and doesn't talk about with anyone

Well anyone but a bottle of extremely good Jim Bean..

He reaches the house and steps inside, knocking his feet against the doorstep one last time to knock off any lingering sand before removing his shoes and taking them back to their place near the front door. According to the clock he's been gone nearly an hour and a half.

Amelia should be asleep by now, but he goes into the kitchen on the off-chance that she's staying true to form and fighting sleep like she always does in an unfamiliar place. Four years together have taught him how to knock her out quickly, and honestly, he should have done this before he left because then she _would_ be asleep now and he'd have a few more hours to gather his strength.

But then he can only put off some things for a finite amount of time.

Nevertheless, he finds the box of hot cocoa he bought earlier and heads over to the liquor cabinet, happy to find a bottle of caramel flavored whiskey within. Two minutes and a microwaved cup full of water later, he's ready to face the woman in his bedroom.

696969696

Amelia's eyes shoot open the instant the door to the bedroom opens. For the last...god, however long it'd been, it'd been too long... But anyway, she's been trying to get to sleep, with absolutely no luck. Instead she's been distracted by a bed that's not familiar, and by the quiet sounds she can hear throughout the house.

Then of course there's the sheer size of the room, and the ocean view, and the fact that she's having just a couple second thoughts about all this business.

So when the door opens, she's still wide awake and doesn't bother hiding it. She pushes herself upright and sits back against the headboard and runs a hand through rumpled hair as she looks at Mick in a frustration that has nothing to do with sex. "I hate my body sometimes. I forgot my sleeping medication. Is there anything in this fucking modern day castle that will murder the hamster running wild in my brain?"

Mick smiles at her in bemused affection as he shuts the door quietly behind him.

"Murder it no...but there are other options." The sight of the steaming mug in his hand nearly makes her moan in relief. Because self-medicating's not the healthiest way to get sleep, but it's a damn sight better than spending the next twelve hours or so acclimating to her new surroundings while dead on her feet.

When she reaches out for the mug the overlarge wifebeater she's wearing slips down one arm. It's not far enough to truly be revealing, so she barely notices. Just like she barely notices how his eyes shoot to her shoulder because her own eyes are on the cup he's offering.

"Is this your famous doctored hot chocolate? Because I'll totally take that over spending the next few hours casing this joint."

He doesn't even try to tear his eyes away from the newly healed skin on her exposed right shoulder. "The original version no...but a fair approximation."

She gets several blissful sips in before she realizes he's still staring. "Mick...?"

He shakes his head as if clearing his head. "Drink. I'll be back in a few minutes, I just need to take a quick shower."

"Mmm-hmm." It's a sound of agreement, but she's reaching for the strap of the shirt and pulling it back into place. The fabric covers the scar perfectly. Then she takes another sip of the hot chocolate - which seems to satisfy him, because he leaves the room - before gulping the rest of it back.

She'd severely underestimated the potential awkwardness of the "in between" phase of a relationship. Not lovers yet, but definitely more than just friends.

Five minutes later Mick is slipping back out of the bathroom. He hadn't been kidding when he said a 'quick' shower. "You didn't cut your hair," she murmurs as she takes in the dark, moisture soaked locks. "I thought you said that once we got back stateside you were going to chop it short again."

"Haven't gotten around to it yet," he says distractedly. There's a towel wrapped around his waist and he seems to have stalled out for a moment. It's enough to relax her even further. Apparently misery does love company.

"Any way I can convince you to keep it long? 'Cause it kind of suits you this way."

She smiles as she slips back down under the blankets. For some reason, she'd always imagined winter in Southern California to be warm and sunny, but it'd been grey and in the mid-sixties when her plane had landed, and seemed to be getting worse outside. So the blankets are nice.

Mick goes over to a duffel bag in one corner, pulling a slip of dark colored cotton out. Still facing away he drops his towel, stretches, yawns and then steps into a pair of simple boxers. Then he pads across the room and easily slips into the bed.

His smile is tender as he hold out one arm in silent invitation for her to move closer. "So did you leave _me_ anything to drink?"

"Hell no. You can sleep anywhere." She rolls onto her side so she's facing him, but doesn't accept the invitation for now. Hot kisses in the kitchen aside, she really is too tired for anything more than a friendly chat at the moment

Mick snorts a little bit at her rejection. "Oh I see how this is. I'm good enough for you to nail to the wall when you're hoping to get laid, but not good enough to cuddle." She knows by his easy, affectionate grin that he's actually teasing.

He also isn't done though. "I was just going to offer a backrub to help knock you out, but if you insist..." He smirks a little bit and settles himself back a little more comfortably against his two propped up pillows. "You can stick with the cocoa. I knew long ago I'd never be as important to you as chocolate."

"Ohhh...for the record, blackmail is completely unfair," she complains as she moves to her other side before scooting back towards him. "Just because I don't sleep well tangled up with someone else..." His hands come to a rest on her shoulders and her mini-rant comes to an end on a soft sigh.

"Says the women who managed to plaster herself all over me in sleep every time we worked undercover."

Familiar hands come to rest on tense shoulders. This isn't the first massage he's ever given her though it is the only one that's been on all but bare skin. "I've been looking for this shirt, you know... What is with you and stealing my laundry?" There's a pause and then. "Your wound looks like it's healed up really well."

"I found the shirt after we got back to the US, and yes, it has," Mel murmurs softly. "Just a little lingering stiffness. The docs say that's because the muscle damage hasn't completely healed. I'm working it out, but I've been short a sparring partner for the last couple of months."

Between the internal warmth of the alcohol he'd spiked her drink with and the external heat of his hands, Amelia's starting to melt into the mattress. Still, there's a few things she'd like to know before she goes unconscious.

"How long have you been here?" Can't have been long...she thinks. His bags are all packed, but that might be because he'd been getting ready to leave when she'd gotten here.

"Since yesterday." His hands move from her shoulders to the line of her spine, and start tracing vertebrae by vertebrae. His breathing is slow and easy - almost deliberately timed, at the top of her shoulder blades his thumbs weave descending circles, shiatsu like to the edge of her ribs.

It's not sexual exactly, but it's definitely a little heady.

"I flew in to surprise Pepper for New Year's. We exchange letters when we can, but I haven't seen her in person for almost two years. I'd hoped to keep it a light social visit, but as you already know, I kind of stumbled into a crisis."

Amelia nods. "You really think she was raped? Because if so I need to find a store that sells shovels somewhere around here."

Mick chuckles at that, the vibrations actually pass all the way down through his hands

"I...I'm not discounting it. But I'm also not sure I'm ready to say it for certain. Pepper's got…history...Mel. Most of it's not mine to tell. It's the main reason I've kept from talking about her much."

"You mean at all." She looks back over her shoulder. "I'm still a little pissed about that, just so you know."

Mick sighs, "Amelia, you of all people know that there are just some things it's easier not to talk about."

"Even to me?" The her voice is a little bit wounded.

"In this case yes...because there's a lot of painful history involved. And with no offense, Wright, just dealing with the crap of the here and now is usually a full time job at the company, without dragging yesterday into it."

Amelia can't deny he's right. "Just...don't do it again, Mick. I hate when I feel like I'm flying blind. It freaks the hell out of me."

The man behind her pauses, for less then a second, before he resumes his massage. "Agreed. Look why don't you stretch out on your stomach, and while I finish you up I'll start evening the score by giving you the basic introductory bio on my sister..."

Amelia nods a little, "How much older is your..."

"A little more than two years, as you know I was born in October of..."

The mellow sound of his baritone is the last thing that she actually remembers.

oo00oo00oo00

Pepper doesn't remember falling asleep. Which, she supposes is a testament to how exhausted she's been as of late. She does remember heading into her office not that long after she and Tony left Mick and Amelia picking over the remains of their lunch in the kitchen. She isn't in the office now though: she's in the master bedroom. She can tell by the cool sheets beneath her, and the view from the bed.

It's already dark outside. The night is quiet, the moon is full and the view is breathtaking.

She feels...relaxed. Like she's slept twelve hours instead of four or five.

She sighs a little and rolls onto her back, locking her hands up and stretching them up to the ceiling, before looking to her right and blinking in disbelief.

Tony Stark is lying half on his stomach passed out on the other side of the bed.

He's lying on top of the covers, while she's laying under them, and with a face slack with his own exhaustion, he's snoring slightly. His casted hand is laid out, a bit awkwardly, at the foot and a half that's between them. Pepper wraps herself tighter in the covers, as if they truly represent more of a physical barrier than cotton ever could. Then she curls up a little and just _looks _at him.

All things considered, Anthony Stark seems to be a happier man than he had been before Afghanistan. That doesn't mean his new life doesn't require more out of him though. There's new lines at the corners of his eyes and deeper grooves to either side of his mouth. Miraculously, there's no sign of silver or white in his hair though - a fact that makes her a little sour since she's starting to pluck out a grey hair or two every few months.

Though she supposes they're more than equal if she gives proper credit, after all she doesn't have the literal consequences of her history permanently imbedded in her chest.

Even the that child that she carries right now will eventually leave her body one way or another. Tony will be hauling around his 'creative offspring' for the rest of his life.

The idea startles her a little, because she's never really thought of it that way before. Hell, Tony may be the only person in the whole world who does understand her own struggles right now. He's just never going to have the ability to shove it into his subconscious like she tries to do with her own pain. It stares him in the mirror when he gets out of the shower every single day.

They're going to have to talk. She knows that. He's still baffled about why she would choose to leave, and even more so in the manner she chose. Not only that, but there's the manner of her child's conception to address.

But somehow, seeing him a new light - one cast by the reactor in his chest - makes it a little easier to contemplate.

One of her greatest frustrations with her own history has been how isolated it makes her feel. After all, how could anyone understand what it had been like to be a child who at an early age was literally concerned with the preservation of her own life? Her past has always made her feel as if she is living in a world that looks similar to the real one, but that is backlit in an entirely different way.

Now though, she wonders if maybe there's more than one way to never really belong to the 'normal world.' After all, some days she's not sure Tony even knows what it looks like.

She watches in silence as Tony stirs and rolls onto his side with a groan. It's only the start of his waking up process, Pepper knows from years of trying to rouse him out of bed. In all, it usually takes him about five minutes to be mostly conscious of what's going on around him. Those five minutes should give her enough time to slip out of the room and go back to avoiding him...

Instead Pepper stays where she is, curled up in her blankets.

When Tony does finally open his eyes, they are definitely hazy. Probably the partial effects of the pain medication he took earlier when they ate. "Hey...Feeling better?" He whispers the words so softly she can barely hear them.

"I don't…" Pepper pauses because the words are just too painful to say, and even more painful to keep inside anymore. Even her voice has taken on that high edge of someone trying not to cry. "I don't know." His casted hand reaches out, until it's laying down next to hers. With all the plaster it's about as much comfort as he can offer to brush her face with the very tips of his fingers. Her face is wet, she realizes in disbelief. She's started crying and she hadn't even noticed.

And Tony...well Tony is obviously at a total loss at the moment.

"I..." His voice when he speaks is hoarse, "Not that I don't want to talk. But first..." He bites his lip in what is obviously discomfort. "I managed to fall asleep with my only good arm under me, and now it's completely numb, Pep. I need to shift onto my back or side. Can you help me with that?"

"Help you how?" she whispers, pushing herself upright in the bed. This at least is instinctive. Mr. Stark needs her help.

"Just help me shift. " He winces. "I don't care in which direction."

Even through the tears the brief look he gets from her makes him wonder if she's going to argue that he's perfectly capable of rolling onto his back by himself, but then her eyes fall on his casted arm, as she realizes his problem.

'He has no leverage that won't cause him pain - all that's available is his bad arm.' That accepted she tugs gently and his far shoulder and hip..

The groan of pain he lets out as she does so is absolutely genuine and a sickening shade of grey temporarily lightens his skin.

"Oww...Ow...Fuck! I hate pins and needles." Once he's on his back though, he sighs in relief. "Okay mental note - no sleeping on my stomach until my hand is healed up."

"You look like shit. You should have taken a full dose of medicine earlier," she tells him as she blinks away more tears at this display of how much she's hurt him. That Tony doesn't blame her for his putting a fist through the wall does absolutely nothing to relieve her own guilty conscience about driving him to that point.

"I thought a little short term pain was better than a long term surrender of my faculties." He breathes out deeply. "Kind of overlooked the nausea though." He struggles to push himself upright but his good arm is still half numb, and he falls back down with a hiss.

"Stop it, Tony. Just lie there for a minute before you try to prove how macho you are." Despite the harshness of her words, Pepper hesitantly reaches out and brushes his hair out of his eyes for him. His skin is warm but clammy under his hands. Sticky with a thin sheen of sweat she assumes is pain induced. His eyes are a little bit annoyed and the tiniest bit condemning.

"I'm not trying to be macho, I'm trying not to _puke_." This time he tries his casted arm, trying to lift himself up again. "Right now Pepper, horizontal is not exactly my friend."

"Anthony Stark!" Pepper quickly slips her shoulder under his arm and helps him upright. "If you put weight on that hand again in my sight, I'll make sure you don't get painkillers of any kind for the next twenty-four hours, and what's more, you'll have it coming."

"Pepper, one, we both know you're just worried, and two - well if you want the right to lecture me, there's a ring in my drawer waiting for you to put it on. Otherwise, frankly, you haven't earned the privilege." He's not surprised by how quickly she shuts up, though it makes him sad. "Pepper, hey..." He catches her chin as she pulls away and hopes she won't overreact to that too. She doesn't jerk away, but she's not exactly relaxed at the gesture either. "Pepper, stop worrying about me, all right? I just punched a wall and broke my hand. It's not your fault when I do stupid things. And I'll heal up just fine."

"It is my fault when you do stupid things because you're worried about me." She exhales in frustration. "I can't believe you did something so stupid, Tony."

"How long have you known me?" She narrows her eyes. Tony sighs, "Pepper, it's not the first reactionary thing I'd done, and probably won't be the last." He leans back on the pillows. "But that's neither here nor there, right now. How about you stop chewing your lower lip and tell me what's really got you so upset?" Her moods are setting land speed records; Tony fights the urge to apologize as her face crumples up a little. He doesn't know if this is how she's going to _be_ while pregnant - which is terrifying - or just the tail end of her blood sugar levels giving her problems. The former in particular is both scary and exhausting to consider.

"Come here," he orders in a tone he rarely takes with her. She complies instantly, carefully - he would use the term fearfully if it didn't make him feel like a jackass for ordering her around - tucking herself into his side. Though, he realizes when he can no longer see her face without craning his neck why she might have complied.

"Okay. Just walk me through this, Pepper. You were crying earlier when I asked if you were alright. You said you didn't know." She shivers and he instinctively wraps his arms around shoulders that feel too thin.

"I don't...I don't..." He can feel her ribs expanding against his side, too rapidly for his tastes. "Mick said you think that I might have been raped," she blurts, catching him by surprise.

He blinks for several seconds. "I have to admit I've had my suspicions. I'd prefer you tell me one way or another, though. You're the one who was in the situation."

And frankly he's guessing she hasn't taken much time to actually process the situation.

"I don't _know _if I was raped that night." She stutters out the words again. And this time she's not shivering, she's shaking, and rocking back and forward just a little bit. "It's...You can look at it so many different ways. I really don't know." Pepper shudders. "I'd had three glasses of wine," she whispers. "And, I knew what was happening...what I was doing. But parts of it were confusing. And I don't know if it was him that was the problem, or me."

"Confusing how?" he asks her cautiously.

"He was rough but not...not mean about it." She shivers. "It definitely hurt. I think I kind of disconnected."

"Did he notice? What did he do when you asked him to stop?"

"I didn't," she whispers so softly he can barely hear her, as close as she is. Because she hadn't.

She could have if she'd been able to find the words but she simply hadn't had them.

"Why not?" He asks the question equally softly, straining his neck so he can see at least a little of her face as she answers.

"Because...because..." She pulls her knees up and presses her face against them. "Yeah it was kind of painful but...well it wasn't so bad...comparatively speaking."

Tony fights down a strong and sudden urge to vomit. Still she's opened the door, and he's got to let her walk through it. "Compared to _what?" _He forces himself to ask the question.

"To the time I'm sure about. To the time I did try to stop it."

He exhales. He's not particularly surprised at the truth. It doesn't make it any easier to hear her say it. In some ways it's more heartbreaking, because he's absolutely helpless to protect her. Still she has to say the words, if everything he's read is accurate. She needs to name the truth for what it is, or at least acknowledge it as such. He can't do it for her, though he supposes he can help her at least a little.

"Pepper, how old were you when you were raped?"

She jerks at the words, gags like she's going to be sick. "Six...maybe seven? A year or so after my father left." Those days sort of blur in her mind, and her mother hadn't exactly been the type to celebrate her birthday.

Tony doesn't know what to say in return, doesn't what to do to make it better or to fix her or the situation. But he needs to at least touch her, and as he rests a hand on her shoulder he hopes she doesn't reject him. She probably needs the comfort as much as he does.

Pepper continues - now completely lost in her own head. "I said _no_ then...Yelled, kicked and hollered. God I tried so _hard_ to fight them." She shakes her head. "They were all high - I don't think they ever really saw me By the last one's turn I'd figured out it was better to just stop struggling. It was easier to wait...to let them have what they wanted and stay still. It didn't hurt so bad that way."

He gently pulls her back until she's lying curled up in his lap, arms still wrapped tightly around her knees. Then he leans down and wraps his arms around her as far as he can get. "Pepper -"

"Don't," she whispers. "Please don't try to be comforting or something. Because this doesn't change anything. This has always been who I am."

"I know. And I love you regardless." He settles for rocking them both, gently. "Because the knowledge doesn't change my feelings for you anymore than it can touch who you are deep inside."

She shudders hard, and he wonders what he said that's wrong. But then she's no longer curled around herself. Instead she's wrapped around him, face buried against her chest as she lets out short, choked sobs.

'Maybe not wrong after all.' His arms wrap around her, albeit very, very carefully. He's scared to death of doing anything that could make her feel trapped, so he settles for rubbing light circles on her back. And Pepper cries like she hasn't in more than twenty-five years.

She cries like a child, furious and terrified by the world. Like the baby she'd been with her security gone and her body likely bleeding. And he's never hated anything in the world as much as he now hates those unreachable, unpunishable attackers.

But they're less important right now then she is. So he pushes them out of his mind and instead he just holds her.

Just about twenty minutes pass before she calms in his arms again, this time limp and too exhausted to even worry about moving. She breathes through her mouth when she's not sniffing, and she hasn't opened her eyes yet. His arms have tightened around her a bit more, and he's still rocking them both a little, quiet and soothing.

"I got your shirt all snotty," she finally murmurs softly.

He chuckles a little and kisses the crown of her head. "It's okay, it's too ragged for anything but sleeping in anymore anyway."

She sighs deeply, then yawns, and then reluctantly moves out of his arms. "I should probably eat something. I wouldn't put it past Mick to come in and drag me to the kitchen table here soon."

Tony chuckles again. "Actually I'm kind of doubting that at least at the moment. But if you're hungry, I can probably handle some soup and sandwiches or maybe some simple pasta." He scoots to the edge of the bed himself, albeit more awkwardly as he can only use one of his arms.

"I hate casts," he grumbles quietly. "Right now I'm ready to say fuck it, and cut my way out of this shirt." The way Pepper eyes the shirt - like cutting it off would be too good for it - makes him laugh softly.

"Can I get some help getting it over my head?" he inquires carefully, suddenly painfully aware of the re-creation of their previous borders.

Pepper does tense a little, but she still gets off the bed and give him a hand. And when he's done, she gets one of his wifebeaters and hands it over. "I think I'm going to take a shower before joining you for dinner," she murmurs without meeting his eyes.

He sighs and reaches out gentle to clasp her hand. "Are you going to be alright?"

She nods her head and tightens her clasp as it intertwines with him. "Yeah. I just...I need some time to pull myself back together. If Mick sees me like this he'll freak."

Tony leans forward and kisses her forehead. "Uhm, Pep...Your brother told me not to worry about giving Amelia a separate room from his...I'm not guessing we'll see him for awhile. Take all the time you need, but don't worry about upsetting him, if I'm wrong when I go out there and he's awake I'll knock on the bathroom door to warn you."

He doesn't seem to understand that she needs the time alone for herself too, but she doesn't point this out when he's making such efforts to be sweet.

"Thank you," is what she says as she finally lets go of his hand.

"Chicken or French Onion Soup?" He asks her softly. "My mom used to make me the latter as a child when I was sick...but you were making faces at the onion dip on the table earlier...

"The smell of onions right now is really unappealing," she says apologetically.

He nods. "Then you're stuck with my chicken and vegetable for now. though in a few days we may be able to try some Zuppa Toscana." "What?" He smirks when she raises an eyebrow, I'm a bachelor yes, but I'm also _Italian_. I make a stuffed red pepper dish I guarantee your brother would murder me for."

"Now that I would love to see." Pepper says with a half smile. "I'll see you in a little bit."

He nods. "I'll...I'll be in the kitchen. Just call if you need me."

He's wary of leaving her, Pepper realizes at that moment. Not because he's suspicious that she's going to run, but because he knows they're both still a little fragile. That unspoken protectiveness warms something deep in the center of her belly.

"Thank you... For earlier." She murmurs the words quietly. "It wasn't fun but it was...I think it was probably necessary."

He nods a little, impulsively steps forward to kiss her forehead again. It's become a repetitive gesture on his part, and she finds that though it's odd, it's no longer really threatening.

Just - unfamiliar. Something she suspects she's going to be getting used to.

"Shower," she murmurs. "I'll be out in a bit. Meanwhile Tony, please...go out and take you damn pain pills. I don't like watching you suffer any more than you enjoy watching me."

That seems to get him, because he reluctantly nods his head. "Let me handle soup preparation and I'll take another pill when we eat."

"I'm going to hold you to that," she says with a little smile as she enters the bathroom and closes the door behind her firmly.

Tony waits until the shower goes on before leaving the room.


End file.
